Harry Potter and the Library of Templar
by The Black Quill
Summary: 5 Harry's sixth year starts off full of mysteries about the Knights Templar, the hidden rooms of the founders, and the Black Books. A normal year. Only, Harry went missing over the summer, and he refuses to tell them he was at Elvish boot camp. ABANDONED
1. The Broken Swing

**Disclaimer: **Don't own; don't sue.

**This is the rewrite of _The Bond of an Army. _You do not need to have read the original version, it's hardly relevant.**

**Full Summary: **Harry Potter is unsure of who he is. Then, he simply vanishes over the summer, returning to claim nothing happened over the two months and insisting that he was not kidnapped. But it is not long before the truth comes out, leaving Harry with a million questions to answer.

Soon he and his friends a large mystery to untangle thanks to the DADA teacher who is all too mysterious, Professor Binns's abrupt topic change from goblins to the Knights of Templar, Professor Snape, and Lord Voldemort.

Hermione is suddenly going on about goblins herself and Ron seems to be struggling with growing up. All in all, Harry is less than ready for sixth year, despite the sudden revelation of his mother's family and a summer of Elvin Boot Camp.

So everything is right on track.

**_Harry Potter and the Library of Templar_**

**Chapter One**

_The Broken Swing_

The park in Little Whining had been deserted for well over a year now. The children in the neighborhood knew better than to play there, having grown up in the era of Dudley Dursley and his gang. They were infamous for their love of beating up younger children. There had been only one swing left unbroken last year. Had anyone walked by, they would have thought the dark haired boy that sat there was remarkably brave. But Harry Potter did not feel such himself.

Harry was lost in thought, replaying his last month in school through his head over and over, analyzing it from every point of view. There had to have been something else he had missed. There were so many mistakes he'd made. There had to be more. The way Harry had himself composed, hunched up as much as he could while sitting on the swing, one seemed to overlook him.

As such, when Dudley's gang entered the park, they did not see him at first. It was Piers Polkiss who spotted him. Harry had not noticed either and was quite ashamed when he jumped off the swing in alarm to Piers's shout. The teenage boys around him were leering, and Harry suddenly felt ten-years-old again.

He stood face to face with his cousin. They looked each other in the eye, both unsure of themselves. Harry was reminded of all that had changed between the two in the last five years when Dudley's eyes showed his discomfort and uncertainty. Harry himself felt strange. He was no longer afraid of his cousin, that he knew for certain. It felt childish to him that he'd ever thought of Dudley as scary. Harry shivered as his mind flashed to black cloaks and white masks.

"So, Potter, Bid D told us you went round the twist," Malcolm said, eyes glittering maliciously. Harry thought of Malfoy's manipulative and arrogant grey gaze and suddenly felt as if this entire world he stood in was foreign.

"Maybe I have," Harry muttered, eyes growing dark. He wasn't quite as restless as last year, but it was only the first day of summer break. Harry had a long way to go before he was free of his life in Surrey.

"I s'pect you have, you little freak," glowered Piers.

"Shove it up your arse Polkiss," Harry hissed. Alarmed, Harry felt the serpent inside him rising. But he was too angry to calm himself, his mind flashing scene after scene of his life connected to those words.

"Baby Potter's learned some language at that military school of his," crowed Piers. "You didn't mention that, D." Dudley said nothing, watching transfixed at Harry.

"You know, Polkiss, you sure talk a lot of smack for someone who looks like he came out of the back end of his mother, 'stead of the front," Harry snarled, repeating something he'd overhead one of the Weasley twins tell a Ravenclaw in their year.

Piers turned red. "You'll pay for that one." He walked around Harry and jerked on the swing. Before long, one side of the chain had snapped off. Piers gave a satisfied noise. Harry, unsure of what, felt something inside him sinking. It took a moment before he was sure he wouldn't cast his breakfast all across the ground.

'This is ridiculous,' Harry scolded himself. 'It's a stupid swing. You don't care.' But Harry's knees gave out from under him and he fell to the ground. Dudley's friends laughed, the sound ringing in Harry's ears and digging into his skin. Harry's breath was a bit labored. He felt his insides beginning to twist, as though coiling around themselves. A buzzing filled his head, and his skin went clammy. His arms were holding him up and they began to shake. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself.

"Dud," he distantly heard Piers say worriedly. "Dud, something's wrong with your freaky cousin. Dudley." Harry had barely registered Dudley's terrified look before a searing pain ripped at his scar. He screamed and clutched his forehead.

It only took a second. No one noticed but him. The silver light only flashed once. An all-too-familiar laughing filled his head, slowly fading with the pain. Harry sat kneeling on the ground in front of the alarmed gang of his cousin, panting still.

"Potter?"

"Harry?"

"Potter!" Harry mustered the strength to lift his head at the sharp voice of a wizard. The gang confusedly scattered as a man stalked toward them. The black, shiny head of Kingsley Shacklebolt came clearly into Harry's vision.

"Mr. Sacklebolt?" Harry wheezed.

"No need to be so formal, call me Kingsley," the Auror said gently, kneeling next to the young wizard. "What happened? Are you alright? What did you see?"

"N-nothing," Harry stuttered. "I just- Vold - he was just toying with me, testing our bond since the Ministry." Kingsley looked worried as he handed Harry a small vial. "What is this?" Harry suddenly became alert. He mentally slapped himself for the second time in five minutes. How was he to know this was Kingsley.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," Kingsley recited quietly, catching onto Harry's suspicion. The boy seemed to relax even more. "It's some potion Dumbledore had Severus make."

"That's very reassuring," Harry muttered bitterly. Kingsley gave a snort as he closed Harry's shaking fingers around the small piece of blue glass. Harry unsteadily pulled out the stopper, shutting his eyes tightly from previous experience. But no smoke emitted from the vial and Harry downed it one gulp. He wasn't sure what it was, but the ache in his scar dulled and his hands stopped shaking. He felt his heart beginning to beat normally. Harry sighed in relief.

"So, did Severus concoct something useful, or should we have him burn the recipe?" Kingsley asked, eyes light. Harry smiled weakly.

"Potter?" came the half annoyed, half frightened voice of Malcolm. Harry cursed darkly under his breath, though he could tell by the slight smile Kingsley had adopted that the Auror had heard him.

"What do you want?" Harry asked wearily, leaning on Kingsley to help him up.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Piers, eyes mistrustful, if less hostile than before. Harry said nothing and only squeezed his eyes shut. If it had not been for Kingsley, this aftershock of pain would have sent him falling to the ground once again.

"Harry?" Kingsley asked quietly. "Who are these boys?" Harry flinched as though he'd been slapped across the face. He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes.

"This is my cousin Dudley and his gang," Harry said, not really caring at the moment what the bald wizard made of it. Suddenly he was thinking of something else. "You're on guard duty aren't you?" Kingsley looked taken aback by Harry's harsh tone.

"Well, yes, I am. Dung just left with Tonks. Figgy and Remus both insisted that Dung only be allowed the shift from midnight to four but he was hanging around anyways. I think Remus has got next shift. That's in about an hour," Kingsley said, checking his watch. If he had been able to, Harry would have stalked away. As it were, however, he could do nothing but glare at the ground. "What is it, Potter?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "Dumbledore forgot to mention that I was still going to have a guard. I'm not so stupid that I can't protect myself. It didn't do me much good last time, now did it?" Harry couldn't help but feel slightly guilty when Kingsley flinched, as though Harry had slapped him. But Harry did not apologize.

"Look, Harry, we-" but Harry cut Kingsley off.

"Would you please decide on whether you're calling me Harry or Potter?" he asked politely. His scar throbbed a little more painfully and Harry gritted his teeth, waiting for Kingsley to go on.

"Harry, you need a guard. Dung is just a little bad a judging when it's a good time to do something. But he's a fiercely loyal chap," Kingsley said. "He helps us a lot. Knows his way around the dirty part of Knockturn Alley." Harry shrugged.

During their conversation Kingsley had led the young wizard to the heavily dent slide. Harry sat at its end, grateful to be off of his feet. It was hard to stand, even with Kingsley's support. "So, seeing as you're my baby-sitter, what happens now?" asked Harry, his voice letting a bit of bitterness slide through. "I, uh, think that my cousin's friends are getting a bit suspicious." Dudley's gang was looking at him as though he was some grotesque specimen, making Harry feel as if he were in one of the jars that lined Snape's office.

"Don't worry about it," Kingsley said, smirking. Discreetly, he flipped his wrist and his wand fell neatly into his hand, shooting out of the sleeve of his robe. Giving the boy in front of him a wink, Kingsley spun around quite fast, proving to Harry that Aurors were rather skilled. In the same motion, the word "Obliviate!" slipped from his tongue. With a swish of the wrist, Piers suddenly looked blank. Dudley squealed, causing Harry to wince. Kingsley quickly hit him next, before finishing up with the others.

"Now what?" asked Harry, perplexed.

"You don't know how a memory charm works?" Kinglsey asked, surprise evident on his features.

"No," Harry said, feeling self-conscious. He nervously tapped the toe of his trainer on the ground. He had, obviously, seen the spell attempted before and had heard of it on many occasions. He had been unable, however, to witness it pulled off successfully.

Kingsley, it seemed, dismissed the fact Harry knew little of the spell. "Saying the spell is the easy half. Once that is done, you must give the bespelled person a story to fill the time of their life they're missing. Stories that aren't that complete are where the problems start. Now then, Harry, how would you like to give your cousin and his friends a little story?"

Harry smiled slightly and moved to face the teenage boys. A wicked grin spread across his face, but vanished rather quickly. Harry knew what Sirius and his father and mayhap even Ron, would do in this situation, but then he thought of his mother, Lupin, and Hermione. They would certainly act responsibly.

"You had a nice stroll around Privet Drive, making fun of the neighbors that were around and picking out a few new victims. Then you decided to swing by the park for a smoke. You've all decided to go ring a few ladies." The boys muttered and nodded in agreement as Harry spoke, leaving when he finished.

Harry watched them retreat with amusement. He turned back to Kingsley, awaiting evaluation. "Pretty good for your first memory charm," Kingsley said. Harry smiled slightly.

"I suppose Hermione would've done a better job," he said with a shrug. "Me 'n Ron are more the brawn of our little group."

"Sure you are," Kingsley said, as though agreeing only to avoid discussion. Harry cast him a strange look.

"What is it?" he demanded. Kingsley seemed to be laughing at him, smiling in that annoyingly knowing way adults do when they think about how foolish children are.

"Nothing." Harry's gaze did not repent, growing more agitated. Knowing of Harry's hostile temper as of late, Kingsley decided to give in. "The Order talks about you three often." Harry snorted, picking up a stone from the ground and rolling it around in his hand. He motioned for the Auror to go on. "We classified Hermione as the brains of your operations-"

"Of course," Harry agreed, as though discussion Defense homework. "She is, after all."

"We figured that you make the obvious conclusions that Hermione overlooks, the one who instigates action."

"My hero-complex," Harry muttered darkly, tossing the stone violently as the swing set.

"Your what?" Kingsley settled down on the grass.

At first it seemed as though Harry wouldn't answer. "Hermione says I have a hero-complex. It's not important. What about Ron?"

"Some people suggested brawn," Kingsley said. "But then Charlie mentioned Ron's excellence at chess. And McGonagall agreed. So they've classified him as your strategist. Only, it never seems that you've had a strategy to your plans."

Harry sat mulling over the man's words. Ron was an excellent strategist. But he was so quick-tempered that he never gave himself time to think. In the past, Ron had usually just done what he and Hermione had told him to. And there was always and undertone of jealousy between Ron and himself. Ron, Harry suddenly realized, was growing up a little slower than Hermione and himself. Sighing, Harry nodded at Kingsley. "I guess that makes sense. Ron really is wicked at chess. Hermione is horrible. We try to make her play enough to keep her ego in check. And I suppose to boost Ron's self-confidence. Neither of us are that great at schoolwork. But Ron can whip anyone at chess."

Kingsley smiled. "I've actually been looking for a chance to pop into Headquarters and challenge him to a game. I came real close to beating McGonagall. It sounds like Ron could use a real opponent. I'm stopping by after my shift."

Harry stretched out on the ground, gazing up at the sky. Kingsley moved next to him a few minutes later. He wasn't sure how long they lay there before he fell into a light sleep. It was when Kingsley sat up suddenly that Harry roused form his stupor.

"Don't move, Harry," he said from the corner of his mouth. "Someone's in the trees." Harry's gaze flickered to the tree tops his range of vision could barely find, resting behind his head.

And the next thing Harry knew, a cloaked figure had sprung from the trees, landing easily on the ground, balanced on their toes. The figure raised its hand, palm facing the bald Auror. Kingsley has just finished pointing his wand at the figure. The figure murmured something Harry could not quite make out. A bright light flashing across the stone that hung around the figure's neck, as neon orange beam shot at Kingsley. The man had just barely resurrected his shield when another spell was fired.

Harry unobtrusively drew his wand, lying as still as the action would allow. Quietly, he swung up into a crouch. A flicker of color in the green trees drew his attention. He could have sworn he saw a flash of silver. The fight quickly regained his focus.

Kingsley was having little opportunity to attack, busy defending himself. Harry pointed his wand at the figure, ready to fire a spell. Just then a second silver-clad figure emerged swiftly from the forest. "Kingsley!" Harry yelled. "There's another!"

But he was too late. The second figure had flipped over the two battlers and landed perfectly behind Kingsley. As the man turned, a sharp jab at his neck sent him falling to the ground. The two figures turned to Harry, who raised his wand shakily, firing a spell at the one who had defeated Kingsley. The figure dodged easily, but the hood of the cloak fell off, revealing the face of a beautiful woman, luscious waves of black hair framing her face. Harry prepared to send another curse.

"We mean no harm," the woman said calmly, albeit loudly. Moving towards him, she pushed her cloak back on her shoulder, revealing a sash skirt and short clinging shirt.

"W-what did you do to Kingsley?" Harry asked, uncertain of what to do. The woman glanced at the fallen Auror.

"Kingsley, as you call him, is fine. All I did was render him unconscious. He will be fine in an hours time. And we three will be gone."

"Who are you?" demanded the wizard. She smiled, giving a short curtsey.

"I am Kilarati, High Fighter of the Elves. This is my brother, Atonics, High Magician of the Elves. And you are?" Harry stared, stunned, his wand arm lowering heavily.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Well, Mr. Potter," Atonics said, lowering his hood. His face was line with a few kind lines, his black hair falling gently to his chin. "We must hurry. The portal will be closing soon, and there is not reason to open another. It causes great disturbances in both of our Realms."

Harry just stared at the two figures in front of him. Impatient, Kilarati said something in an unfamiliar language to her brother. Atonics nodded, and suddenly Harry was drifting towards them. Kilarati grabbed his arm and pulled him along as Atonics led them into the trees.

Moments later, an owl dropped an envelope on the spot Harry had been standing. Pops were heard as no less than five wizards in ministry robes apparated into the park.

A/N This chapter is short, the others will be significantly longer.

P A/N Kingsley previously said "Number thirteen Grimmald Place.' This was actually a rewrite mistake. I had first had this Kingsley being an imposter, then changed it as it was impossible, in my opinion. I just forgot to change it.


	2. Silver Guard Number Forty Eight

_**Harry Potter and the Library of Templar**_

_by The Black Quill_

* * *

**Chapter Two:**

Silver Guard Number Forty-Eight

Harry was lying on the bottom of a bunk bed, one of the many that lined the rectangular marble room. They were made of a green metal, with numerous initials carved into the poles. The boy was currently throwing a dog tag into the air and catching it. There was no one else in the room, though Harry did not seem to care. As such, no one was around to hear when the tag fell to the floor with a ringing _chink. _

Sighing, Harry rolled over to pick it up. Instead of returning to his former position, Harry replaced the tag on a chain around his neck. Pushing himself off of the bed, he stood in a fighting stance, lazily running through a pattern. As he went, his moves become sharper, more anger behind them. Finally, a good hour later, Harry collapsed to the ground.

Kilarati and Atonics had come by a few hours ago, to tell him that he was now sixteen. Harry had had little cause to rejoice, sporting a black eye and sprained wrist. It was for this reason that he was alone in the bunk house and not with the rest of his roommates, training.

Harry, sick of himself and the room, went through the door into an entry hall. There was a door across the half-circle room and a set of plain double doors in the center, leading to the girls' bunks and the dining hall respectively. Harry made for the large black-marble doors that were across from the dining hall. Behind them was a long hall way, with doors heavily coated with symbols and magic along both sides. Another set of double doors lay at the end of the long hall.

Going through the third door on the right, Harry smiled slightly.

* * *

Harry did not reemerge from behind the door until a few minutes before supper was to be served. He quickly entered the hall and took his spot at his table. A light-haired man with pointed ears and a large build clapped his hands and sat. The rest of the hall soon followed.

"Where were you, Haru?" questioned the bright-eyed boy at his left. "We can't eat until we're all here."

"I know, Sumarr," Harry said calmly. "I've been here just as long as you."

"But you're a human," taunted a dark-skinned boy across from Harry.

"Oh shove it, Mimiru. I can still whip your Elvin butt at swords work." Harry promptly began downing rum cakes.

"So can I, Human," sneered a boy from down the table. Numerous elves around Harry rolled their eyes.

"Honestly, no one cares that Haru's human besides you, Jikno," Nix, a beautiful female elf with long blond locks, griped from Harry's right. Jinko, the elf in question, glared at Nix.

"You should care. Haru isn't even his real name. Why should a human be blessed with an Elvin name? Why should he be allowed to be among us elves and train under our customs? No humans deserve such an honor." Harry pretended to tune out Jinko's tirade, but his grip was tightening on his fork. An anger churned inside of him.

"Besides," Jinko continued, "Human over here, what makes him so different from any others of his kind. I mean, sure, he's got magic, but there are other human wizards. There's nothing special about a skinny, messy-haired freak." The serpent stirred inside Harry. His anger was replaced quickly by alarm. It had been a long time since he had felt Voldemort inside of him.

"Your lack of an expansive vocabulary astounds me, you whelp," Nix said breezily. Harry smiled slightly, his friend's voice calming him.

"And I'll bet Haru here is mighty special," Mimiru said, face calm and impassive, but his dark eyes glittering dangerously. Harry snorted, taking a sip of his baribou tea.

"Even the human knows he isn't worthy," Jinko said, smirking at Harry.

"Don't listen to him Haru," said a mildly good-tempered elf across the table from Harry. Well, as good-tempered as warrior elves come. "Jinko only came because he tormented some people so much that they got angry. He had no where else to go." Jinko snarled at Riyajin.

"Thanks, Riya," Harry said.

"What **is** your human name?" asked Sumarr with interest slightly muffled by the bread in his mouth.

"Harry Potter," he replied, a bit uncertain if revealing his name was a good idea.

"Harry," Nix repeated. She thought for a minute, repeating his name again and again. It sounded odd in her Elvish accent, but then, Harry supposed, a few months ago, his Elvish had sounded odd with his English accent. It would take them all time. "Zemar i'yu. I like it."

This was why Harry liked Nix so much. She was decisive, in a way that Hermione wasn't. If Harry were to draw Nix a human parallel he would probably choose Tonks, though Nix had a grace Tonks did not and Tonks was much wittier. There had been a month when Harry and Nix had been more than friends. Harry decided that Dean was right, and that kissing really was amazing. Especially with an elf as experienced as Nix.

Mimiru was quite reminisce of the Weasley twins, though more serious about learning. Sumarr was unlike anyone Harry knew of. His sarcasm was easily lost. His mind was quite brilliant, though his slightly spiked shell was quick to discourage friendship. There was a darker edge to him. Only Sumarr, once he deemed you alright, was fiercely loyal. You never insulted a friend of his and expected to awaken the next day.

Harry had found, to his utter dismay and annoyance, that Jinko was a lot like Draco Malfoy. And Harry was quickly learning how Hermione must have felt all of the time. Jinko would compare Harry's to the elves constantly, pointing out Harry's human flaws. Snide comments would be uttered constantly.

Riyajin had taken particular offense to Jinko's attitude towards the resident human. Sumarr, Riyajin's second cousin, had confided to Harry that her great-uncle had left the Elvin Realm to live with humans, having fallen in love with one. This had been after the days when the doorway between the two worlds was regulated by the wizards. But he had been half Dwarf Elf, which have the power to become invisible for short durations of time. This was also why Riyajin was shorter than the rest by about an inch, being ¼ Dwarf Elf. Harry had found it amusing that the elves though of someone 5' 6'' as a 'Dwarf,'seeing as that was the average height of a Dwarf Elf.

* * *

Harry zipped his bag shut with a grim look upon his face. He ran his fingers of the tags around his neck before leaving the bunks. He fell into step with Nix and Riyajin, who had just come form the female bunks. Together, they found Sumarr and Mimiru talking quietly with Kimpari. The female elf gracefully left eh conversation and moved to find her present suitor, Linamirr.

"You're the first human to complete the training, Haru," Mimiru said, sounding proud.

"He's the only human who's been asked, you barbaric mountain elf," Sumarr said with a snort. Harry ignored the merchant's son, turning to chat with Nix.

In quick time, the trainees in the room were gathered and put into a line. They marched to the end of the hallway, bags and bows slung on their shoulders, swords and daggers in their belts, spears and staffs in their hands. Harry's heart thudded painfully as they opened the grand doors. Light spilled into the hall, and they began their proud walk from the building.

It was strange, Harry mused, that only a month had passed in this place. Their training had gone on much longer. He had thought it would never end. He had little time to speculate on this as they dropped their gear and took their stations. It was time that they show the watchers what they had learned.

The High Elf sat in an elegant chair in the front of what looked like a pasture. Two heralds stood on each side, between the High Elf and the Lord and Lady Elf to his left, the High Fighter and High Magician to his right. Looking at them made Harry's palms sweat. In hopes of calming his nerves, Harry ran through Elvish etiquette in his head.

"We present to you," began Captain Amutai, "the new Silver Guards. Before they apply to the Royal Guard Force, they have been brought to show you their skills, High Elf Yitariyu."

"Let the exhibition begin, Captain Amutai," the High Elf said with a nod. The captain bowed, his eyes dancing with slight malice.

"First, the horse trials." Captain Amutai moved to the platform with the other high-ranking elves as the heralds began their introductions. Harry waited with a restless mind, performing most of his trials on auto-pilot, knowing he should have paid attention. But no one expected the human to do well anyways. Best not to disappoint them.

"The sword trials, my liege," Amutai rose to announce. The herald in red walked to the center of the ring.

"Lord and Lady Elf, you come to see greatness, and here you shall see it!" he cried, arms flinging out. "High Fighter Kilarati for you will be astounded with this elf's abilities. From the shores of Ir'ettep, Son of the Fisher Jutarilyo and the Cook Kimitar, I bring you the amazing, the astounding, Ki Jinkonian Uteletep, Silver Guard number 24." Harry sighed as Jinko strolled onto the field, his tags catching in Rai's light.

The herald in blue now stood. "You all are drawn here today, to see the greatest of all the Silver Guards. The human! For he has journeyed from the mystic land of Little Whining to show you a true fight. The strong and gallant Silver Guard number 48, Son of the Unspeakable James and the Cryptologist Lillyan, the brave Ki Harry 'Haru' Potter."

Taking a deep breath Harry jumped over the fence and walked briskly to the center of the ring. Jinko smirked at him, and then bowed slightly. Harry, eyes focused on his opponent's hair, bowed as well. Slowly they rose and locked swords. After a five count, they swung apart gracefully, circling once before taking their preferred starting stances. A ripple of magic went through the ring, Captain Amutai's signal to begin.

Harry waited patiently, knowing that Jinko would strike first. Soon, the elf did so. Easily Harry blocked. Jinko continued his attack, the paces speeding up with each blow. Harry responded with blocks, letting Jinko fall into a rhythm. Carefully watching his opponent's stance, Harry found his opening and struck.

The blunt practice blade struck Jinko with force, sending him to the ground. Harry moved to attack again as the elf rolled back to a crouch. Now Harry delivered the blows, leaving Jinko to block. Wary not to fall into a pattern, Harry kept on his assault, working to tire out his fellow Silver Guard.

Jikno suddenly dropped to a sweep kick, hoping to make Harry fall to the ground. Harry jumped, just barely missing the kick. He responded with a foot in the back as Jinko tried to turn back around. Flipping over the elf on the ground, Harry pointed his blade at Jinko's throat. The other's own sword lay on the ground next to his hand.

"The winner if Silver Guard 48, by kill point and disarm." Harry sheathed his sword and bowed politely to Jinko, before exiting the rink, ready to watch his friends.

Dusk had fallen as the sword trials ended. Harry waited patiently for Kilarati and Atonics. The exhibition would continue the next day, with Harry's favorite events: daggers and unarmed combat, in which his size was immensely helpful. His guardian elves were soon able to break away from their friends and accompanied him to their tents.

"So, Haru, how does it feel to be a member of the Silver Guard?" asked Kilarati. Harry shrugged as he started some tea over the fire outside the two tents.

"I dunno. But I wish you'd just call me-" Harry was cut short as two small form darted out of Kilarati's tent.

"Harry!" cried one. The two young elves jumped on him, causing him to fall back in the dirt. Harry laughed, pushing the twins off.

"It's nice to see you too, Mitra, Liara." The girls smiled at him. "You realize it's only been a few days for you since you've seen me last." Mitra rolled her eyes as her sister put her hands on her hips.

"It's been months for you, dung-brain," Liara said in exasperation. "You needed a nice welcome back."

"Of course," Harry said obligingly, smiling as he returned to the tea.

"Mitra, Liara, would you two go find Lord Riyu'lin and tell him that your father and I will be bringing Harry with us to dinner?" Kilarati asked, smiling charmingly at her nieces.

"We know you just want to talk about things without us, Var Kilarati," Mitra said, skipping along and pulling a scowling Liara with her.

"How well they understand things," Atonics said with a smile. He sat down upon a rock, leaning his black staff across his knees. Kilarati snorted.

"We know they got that from Aeo'Marr." The two siblings began bickering. Harry shook his head, pouring the tea into five cups.

"Here," he said, interrupting their taunts. The two gave half-bows in thanks. "Diumaj."

"Harry," Atonics said seriously. Harry nodded at him, quickly constructing silence wards while Atonics put up alarms. "We have finally figured out why that portal opened." Harry felt his stomach drop.

"And if I choose not to know?" Harry asked. Kilarati avoided his eyes.

"You must know," Atonics whispered. Harry braced himself, giving the elves before him a nod in response to the offered small flask. Pouring a good amount of the whisky into his tea, Harry downed the cup, whipping his mouth.

* * *

It was midnight. There was silence all around Harry. He hugged Atonics and Kilarati tightly. Nix, Mimiru, Sumarr, and Riyajin were next. The girls each placed a kiss on his cheek, whipping unabashed tears from their eyes. Harry smiled softly.

"No need to be so upset. You're only a portal away. We'll see each other again," Atonics told the teenagers in front of him.

"Atonics, they're good friends. And they haven't been apart for more than a day since they met," Kilarati snapped. Harry tuned the older twins out, prying Liara and Mitra off of his legs so he was able to say good-bye.

"You two'll have to make sure that Kilara and Atonics don't kill each other. Can you do that for me?" The girls nodded, eyes full of tears. "Don't cry. I promise to bring you to Hogwarts soon, alright? Besides, you guys have your tenth birthday tomorrow. Your first decade! And there's a present for each of you in the house."

"Of course there is," Sumarr muttered. Nix elbowed him, which led to his scowling darkly at her. The others paid them no mind.

"You'll give Jinko hell for me, right?" Mimiru grinned wickedly.

"On your bidding," he said, bowing for good measure. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I suppose its up to you then, to watch Mimiru, Riyajin. Nix is going to have her hands full with Sumarr," Harry said, face quite serious. Riyajin smiled softly, eyes twinkling.

"Of course." She, too, bowed.

Harry nodded and moved towards the portal, scooping up his packs on the way. He paused, grasping the silver frame. "I'll miss you all." Without turning and without waiting for a response, Harry walked through the portal.

* * *

It was midnight in Little Whining and there was no one about. No one to see the portal that appeared in the broken park or the teenage boy that emerged from it minutes later. Harry glanced around, pleased to find that the town was the same as ever. For only those unusual people up to no good would be about at this time of night.

He withdrew something from his bag. Only it appeared to be nothing. As he pulled this invisible object around himself, he, too, vanished. Harry shuddered as he looked down. He could just barely make out his legs through the magic. He felt as if he were doused in water, which, of course, was the concept of the Elvish cloak.

It was not long before he was at the back door of number four. He removed a visible object from his bag this time. It was clearly a set of lock picks. Muttering about the insanity of underage wizarding laws, Harry made quick work of the lock. Knowing that the Order (let alone the Ministry) was bound to have guards watching and protecting the house, he looked around for a distraction.

It was as he did this that he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He turned, trying to spot someone. Looking down, he found the eyes of a speckled grey cat. Cursing in Elvish (which Kilarati would have boxed him for), Harry watched in desperation as the cat scurried away. Atonics had warned him that the cloak would not work on felines and owls. They were able to see through the water façade.

Harry had no time to find a solution to his new predicament as a soft crack announced the arrival of a wizard. Turning silently, Harry saw that it was Tonks. Her eyes were alert. Harry had never seen her look quite so dangerous. Her body was a bit thinner than he remembered, she appeared fatigued. It had only been seven weeks.

"Who's there?" she whispered harshly. "I'm an Auror low on sleep, you do not want to mess with me. Harry Potter isn't here. What the hell do you want?" Harry stayed silent and made no movement, careful to keep a steady breathing pattern. His palms were sweaty and his breathing became hitched as she moved closer.

Tonks eyes the area he was standing in wearily. Raising her wand, she glared about two inched from where Harry was. "Accio, invisibility cloak!"

Harry smiled. His cloak was a **concealing** cloak. Since Tonks was expecting a silvery wizard's invisibility cloak, the concealing cloak would not come to her. But Harry watched in amusement as his father's cloak zoomed down from his bedroom window. Tonks truly was powerful.

"Right then. Keiko, you really can be a pain." The fluffy cat meowed indignantly. "Don't give me the wounded Kneazle act." Tonks quickly apparated away. Keiko, the cat, turned her gaze back to Harry and cocked her head. He smiled sweetly before pulling an Elvish firework from his pocket.

"Right then," he whispered. "You'd better turn away Keiko. You won't like this." And with that, Harry hurled the firecracker, watching it land in the neighbor's yard, gong off in a silent shower of blinding gold and blue sparks.

A crack once again sounded. This time it was a Ministry wizard, closely followed by Tonks. Harry watched as they crept to the other yard. Not about to miss his chance, Harry darted through the door, quietly opening and closing it. Careful to lock it again, Harry moved to the stairs. Avoiding the creaking step, he moved up to his room.

Wary of Order members camping out there (he wouldn't put it past them), Harry slowly peeked inside. His stuff was piled on top of his bed. The loose floor board was askew, thanks to Tonks's summoning charm. But the cloak now lay on the floor, apart from the rest, so Harry was confident they hadn't found it.

Smiling, Harry pulled off the concealing cloak and picked up the invisibility cloak. Pulling his bags off, Harry opened one leather sack to reveal a rather small trunk. He placed the two cloaks inside and locked it. Tracing a rune on the cover, it shrunk and Harry set it in his school trunk.

Opening the other two bags, Harry shuffled through the clothes until he located a green shirt that looked relatively normal. The pants inside were mainly all old-fashioned, as was Elvish style. But there were three pairs of jeans shoved in the bottom of one, which Harry pulled out. Selecting the black pair, he put them on along with the green shirt, throwing the training clothes he'd been wearing back into the bag.

Placing them in his trunk next, Harry concealed the two beneath his other clothes and books, making sure you could not see them or the shrunken trunk. Satisfied, Harry sat on his floor, leaning against the wall under his window, slightly sideways on his mattress.

He awoke from a three hour doze rather abruptly. Shaking his head (it was only four thirty in the morning), Harry stood and stretched. He made his way silently into the kitchen downstairs. Opening the fridge, Harry selected a bottle of milk and poured himself a tall glass. He missed cow's milk. He proceeded to cut up a cantaloupe and mix together pancake batter.

It was around six when the Dursleys finally came down the stairs, having heard movement in the kitchen. Harry had long since given up caution. He was on his fourth glass of milk and had eaten two cantaloupes. There was a heaping plate of bacon in the oven, along with towering piles of blueberry, plain, and chocolate chip pancakes on three different plates.

"Potter!" Uncle Vernon was the first to speak to Harry, after the family had gaped at him for a good five minutes.

"I woke up early," Harry gave him a charming smile. "I figured I should make us all breakfast." Dudley, it seemed, was not about to refuse the offer of such appealing food. _Pity,_ Harry thought, _were I an imposter trying to poison them, my job would be only too easy. As it is…_

"Where the ruddy hell had you been boy?" growled Vernon. Harry gave him a puzzled stare.

"I was in my room, of course. Honestly Uncle Vernon, are you feeling quite right? You all appear to have seen a ghost for the first time. I mean really, Nearly-Headless Nick hasn't been wandering from the castle, has he?" Harry found delight in the scandalized look his uncle gave him. Aunt Petunia settled for a withering glare.

"You have been gone all summer," Aunt Petunia said tightly. "And your **friends **have been poking around as well. What have you done now?" Once again, Harry made quite the perplexed face.

"I thought I must have slept a few extra days, I feel a bit disoriented. But I haven't been asleep all summer, have I? Did I miss the train to school? What am I supposed to do?" Harry sounded in a right panic now.

"Asleep! What is the meaning of this," Aunt Petunia screeched. "Where have you been?" Harry blinked, face contorted in annoyance and bewilderment.

"How on earth am **I **supposed to know?" snapped Harry, glaring at his aunt. "I just woke up this morning a bit early. And you're telling me that I've been gone all summer! I don't what you expect me to do. I've got to go send a letter to school, so I can get back there for the rest of the term."

"Don't be stupid, boy," Uncle Vernon said, blocking Harry's exit. "You haven't missed the train to your blasted school. You still have five days of break left."

"Oh," was all Harry said. He turned back to the oven and pulled the bacon out.

"You mean to tell us," Uncle Vernon said heatedly, apparently deciding their discussion was not over, despite Harry's obvious disinterest. "That you have no idea where you've been for the past six weeks?" Harry rolled his eyes, setting the food on the table.

"That's what I've been saying." He picked up a few pieces of bacon, munching on them as the Dursleys simply stared at him. "You going to eat any of this? Because I'll feed whatever I don't eat to Hedwig. And I suppose Pig'll want some when he shows up."

"You'll need to tell your friends that you're back," Aunt Petunia said hesitantly.

"Well, I suppose that they'll be wanting to put a guard back on me," Harry admitted. He seemed to be deep in thought. "I'll go check and see if there's any work Mrs. Figg needs done, after breakfast."

Harry didn't wait until the Dursleys had finished. He left as soon as he was full, getting rather uncomfortable with his family's unnerving gazes. A bit apprehensive, and not quite sure that he was entirely sane to be doing this, Harry walked out onto the walkway, casually heading to Mrs. Figg's.

He heard a choking sound on his right, just before he felt himself in a tight grip. Immediately, Harry began struggling against the arms that held him, until he realized that he was being hugged, not attacked. Relaxing only slightly, Harry cleared his throat.

When his supposed attacker backed away, Harry was able to see that it was Remus Lupin. "Er, hello, Professor Lupin," Harry said awkwardly. Lupin hadn't shaved in at least two days. His eyes had dark circles around them, and his clothes were wrinkled. He appeared even thinner than normal, more like when Harry had first met him on the Hogwarts Express in his third year, back before he had had a job.

"Where have you been, Harry?" Lupin asked, his voice scratched with emotion. "Merlin, I was afraid I'd lost you too." And suddenly Harry felt like he would hurl. Lupin had lost Sirius just as Harry had. Then Harry, Lupin's last link to his best friends, had vanished for over six weeks.

"I don't know," Harry said. His throat felt clogged, his stomach twisting with guilt. "I'm really sorry if I've been a bother-"

"Goodness, Harry, I'm just so glad you're all right." And Lupin looked it. He kept running his slightly shaking hand through his hair, and his eyes seemed to shine with relief. "Come on, we'll go up to your room." Harry winced.

"Don't you have to alert Dumbledore or something," Harry asked. Lupin nodded.

"I can do it from your room," he insisted. Something seemed a bit off to Harry, though he wasn't sure what. Forcefully, Lupin steered Harry back to the house. "Mrs. Figg's cats, Lucy and Pepper had kittens while you were gone." Harry gave Lupin a strange look.

"Umm, Mrs. Figg doesn't have cats name Lucy and Pepper," he said cautiously, unsure as to if Lupin had gone mad. Lupin looked at him, confused. "She's got a Luigi and, uh, Piper…." Lupin scratched his head, then smiled.

"Of course," he said. "How silly of me. I haven't been getting a lot of sleep the last few weeks." They opened the door and started in. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon had decided that it was time to leave for work and was just entering the hallway.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his face going a fascinating shade of red, outrage clear on his face. "Who are you?" Vernon asked in a dead whisper, as if he thought the neighbors had surveillance in the house. This, of course, was entirely plausible, in Harry's opinion.

"Uncle Vernon, this is Prof-" But Lupin cut Harry off.

"I'm Remus Lupin, one of James and Lily's best friends." Harry rubbed his slightly sweating palms on his pants. Uncle Vernon said nothing, only glared at Harry.

"Pleasure," he ground out, pushing past the wizard and walking out of the door. Harry stared after him until Lupin tugged on his arm, pulling Harry towards the stairs. Shaking his head and giving his former professor an odd look, Harry led Lupin up to his room.

Sinking onto his mattress, Harry grabbed some Berttie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "Want some?" he offered to Lupin. Politely, the older man declined.

"I've been wondering, Harry," Lupin said, sitting next to him. "Why do you keep all of these broken toys? Every one of them is useless. Except the books, which appear to be untouched. Severus was quite a headache when Dumbledore brought him over." Harry snorted at the thought.

"They aren't mine," Harry said casually, biting into the corner of a off-green colored bean. He made a face, throwing the bean into the rubbish bin. "I think that was elephant pie." Lupin grinned.

"I had one of those once," he reminisced. "And what do you mean, they're your cousins?"

Harry shrugged. "Just what I said. This used to be Dudley's second bedroom, where he put all of his broken toys. I never bothered doing anything with them. I'm only here for the summers. Usually less, since I get to visit Ron, or I get myself in trouble."

"Then where did you used to sleep?" Lupin asked, thoroughly perplexed. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"In my cupboard," Harry mumbled. Lupin's brow furrowed.

"What was that?"

"In my cupboard," Harry said, slightly louder. For some reason, everyone seemed appalled when they found out that little bit of information.

"Your cupboard," Lupin said carefully. Harry nodded, popping a cherry ice bean into his mouth. "You have a cupboard? Where?"

"Under the stairs. Look, I really think you should tell Dumbledore I'm back. In case, you know, people are looking or something." Harry had definitely had enough conversation about his cupboard.

Lupin shook his head. "Oh yes, of course. Sorry, I'd forgotten about alerting Albus after you passed the test."

"What test?" asked Harry, confused. Lupin smiled at him.

"About Mrs. Figg's cats, the way you acted around your uncle, and your response about the toys."

"You guys knew about the toys?" Harry asked, amazed.

"No," Lupin shook his head as he moved to Harry's desk. "But you answered without hesitation. Like yourself. There was an imposter, someone who claimed to be you, about three weeks ago. We could tell right away, of course. It was just some Ministry kid, who had overheard his father and mother talking about office matters, when he should have been in bed. He'd used his father's wand. Only ten years old, and he managed a pretty good bit of magic. Thought he'd like to try being famous. I believe he's grounded until he starts Hogwarts next year."

Harry, wondering why anyone would pretend to be him, smiled slightly, shaking his head. Lupin pulled out a parchment from his robes and, using Harry's quill, quickly wrote a message on it. Pulling out his wand, Lupin tapped it, murmuring an incantation too low for Harry to catch.

"All done. I told him I'd interrogate you; get all the information I could." Lupin winked, and Harry couldn't help but smile. "Now then, a medical check is in order, I think. The Ministry will be coming eventually. They only have guards here at night, the lazy wankers."

Standing obligingly, Harry waited patiently as Lupin did an immediate check. Finding Harry had a bruise on his shin, Lupin searched his sleeves for bruise balm. ("Charmed to hold a great deal of things, Harry, for when you showed up. You may have been a pile of blood.") After this, Lupin declared him in perfect health.

"Better than before, actually," Lupin said interestedly. "You look like you've been eating decent, maybe working out." Harry blushed and squirmed under Lupin's gaze. Shaking his head, Lupin turned to gaze out the window. "We really were worried. I thought Death Eaters had gotten you. I made Severus go bonkers he had to tell me so many times that Voldemort was furious at your disappearance."

Harry sighed, laying out across his mattress. Lupin ran his fingers absently over the sill of the open window. Leaning out, he took a deep breath, waving at what Harry suspected a passerby on the street. Turning to face Harry, Lupin leaned on the sill, scrutinizing Harry again.

"So, you don't remember anything." Harry shook his head. As Lupin had checked his health, Harry had told him that he felt like he had slept a few days in a row, but didn't know where he'd been.

Once again, Lupin turned out of the window. Leaning so far over, Harry was afraid he may fall, Lupin peered down, sniffing at the air. "What is it?" asked Harry.

"I could have sworn I smelt blood there for a minute," Lupin said, confused. Harry shrugged. "What is this?" Lupin's hand was still outside, running along the outside wall of the house. Harry watched as Lupin felt the two sides, then the top. "Harry, there's a series of holes along this window."

Harry scratched his head, as if trying to remember why there would be. "Oh," he said. Lupin looked at him, questioning. "There used to be bars on the window." Lupin blinked.

"Why?" Harry shrugged in response.

"You want something to eat? I'll bet that there's still some breakfast. I made a lot," Harry said. Without waiting for an answer, Harry left the room and made for the kitchen.

Dudley had left, and though Harry expected that Aunt Petunia would have also been gone, leaving the dishes for Harry, she still stood there, slowly washing a plate. Looking up as he entered, Petunia focused her gaze on her task again.

"Oh, hi, Aunt Petunia. Um, just came to get more breakfast." Harry piled a few pieces of bacon and some of each pancakes onto a plate.

"Harry," Lupin said softly from the doorway. Turning with a bit of apprehension, Harry looked at Lupin. "Set it down." Doing as asked, Harry put the plate on the table. "Hello, Petunia."

Harry's aunt had frozen in her chore. "Remus," she acknowledged, not looking up.

"How have you been?" Lupin asked. Harry decided he really didn't like being out of the loop.

"Did you come to talk to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon after I vanished?" asked Harry, looking at Lupin.

"No," Aunt Petunia said softly. That, Harry supposed, made sense. Uncle Vernon would have known who he was.

"So, when, exactly, did you meet? I mean, obviously you saw each other at King's Cross, but…."

"I went to visit Lily," Remus said, still watching Aunt Petunia, a thoughtful look on his face. "Before seventh year. Petunia was visiting her parents. It was, what, three months to the wedding, Petunia?"

Aunt Petunia nodded, setting the plate down in the sink and finally turning around. "Vernon was at a conference in Italy."

"Ah, yes, now I remember. That's why Lily insisted I wait to visit," Lupin agreed. "James was furious she wouldn't let him come."

"Is there something you wanted, Remus?" Aunt Petunia asked, her voice flat. Lupin surveyed her.

"Where's your linen closet?" he asked. Aunt Petunia started. Harry moved closer to Lupin.

"Under the stairs, but-" Lupin didn't wait. He turned and walked to the small cupboard, eyeing the lock on it with interest. Harry winced from the doorway.

"A lock on your linens, Petunia? A bit paranoid?" Lupin opened the door, standing back so all three could see the empty space. "There's nothing in here, but a broom and dustpan."

"I tried to tell you," Aunt Petunia said, mouth so thin that Harry was eerily reminded of Professor McGonagall. "We keep the linens in the bathroom." Lupin nodded.

"Well then, I'll just be finishing up with Harry. The Ministry should be here soon. Wouldn't want to intrude upon their time." Lupin smiled at Petunia, who had turned rather pale.

"The Ministry of Magic?" she asked, terrified. Lupin nodded.

"Of course. Harry's a very important person. They'll want to know what's happened. Albus already sent them word," Lupin said. Aunt Petunia back into the kitchen. Lupin gestured for Harry to come closer.

"What?" asked Harry, feeling nervous for some odd reason.

"Your cupboard?" Harry nodded.

Walking inside, he ducked down. Thinking now of how his aunt and uncle could have possibly thought that he'd be able t live in there forever, Harry examined the walls. Finding what he had searched for, Harry smiled. There, ever so small, in place so hard to see, was a child's doodle. Three stick figures, one a woman, on a man, and one a boy. "Mum and Dad," Harry said softly, grinning.

Coming back out and shutting the door, he saw Lupin giving him a strange look. Before Harry could ask him what was wrong, there was a sharp rap on the door.

"Ministry," Harry muttered. "Anyone else would've rung the bloody bell." Lupin snorted, following Harry to the door. Slightly apprehensive, Harry pulled open the door.

"Hello." Harry felt like running repeatedly into a wall. A shiver was dripping down his back. Doing his best to shake it off, Harry stood back.

"Hello, Mr. Diggory," Harry mumbled. "Have you met Professor Lupin before?"

"Not personally, but I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Lupin," Mr. Diggory said, eyes dancing.

"Call me Remus, please," Lupin said smiling. He glanced at Harry as well, as though trying to tell him, without actually doing so, that he, too, was free to use his first name.

"And you may call me Amos, of course," Mr. Diggory said. "And between you and me, Suzana did get what she deserved." Lupin went slightly red, while Mr. Diggory smiled even wider. Curious, Harry almost asked them, but another of the people at the door cleared their throats. "Now then, Remus, Mr. Potter, these are my colleagues, Amunet Alba and Gregos Poole. Madame Bones I believe you are familiar with."

Harry nodded to each, rather uncomfortable under Alba's intent gaze. Poole, however, seemed more interested in Lupin. "Remus Lupin I presume?" he asked, smiling.

"It's been a while Poole," Lupin said, eyeing the man in front of him.

"Not so long, Remus," Poole said. "Remus and I go back quite a ways, don't we?" Lupin shook his head in amusement.

"You were quite the promising Gryffindor," Remus said. "One could not be too careful with you. Us Marauders couldn't be out done."

"Of course you could," Madame Bones said seriously. "You just got lucky." Lupin bestowed a bow on Bones, causing her to smile fondly. "We have business to attend to, however."

Lupin immediately turned serious. "Why don't we let Harry lead you to his room?"

The others followed Harry up the stairs. When they reached the landing, however, Dudley was standing there, looking petrified. His eyes were huge, making him look larger than ever.

"Move Dudley," Harry said softly. Too soft, he knew, for anyone but Remus to hear. But Dudley was staring in fear at the wizards and witches before him.

"Hello, lad," Madame Bones said smiling kindly. Mr. Diggory and Poole looked interested in Dudley, while Alba looked annoyed. "I'm Madame Bones. You must be Harry's cousin." Dudley nodded, unable to speak.

"This is Dudley," Harry said softer than he'd intended to.

"This is Ms. Alba and Mr. Poole," Mr. Diggory introduced. "And I am Mr. Diggory." Recognition flickered in Dudley's eyes.

"Diggory?" Dudley finally choked out. Harry quickly got a feeling of dread.

"Dud was just going to find Piers and the rest of his gang, weren't you?" Harry asked hurriedly. Dudley was still gazing at Mr. Diggory, as if something were just on the tip of his tongue, only he couldn't quite get it.

"Diggory… who…" Dudley looked so thoughtful that the others seemed worried.

"You don't know anyone named Diggory, Dudley," Harry said firmly.

"Wait a minute," Dudley said, looking between Harry and Mr. Diggory. _God no,_ Harry pleaded. "You, last year in your sleep…."

"Yes, Dudley, I slept. Bye then, lovely catching you before you left. Give Polkiss my love." Harry quickly moved to his room before Dudley could say anything else. Thoroughly confused, the others followed.

Pleased to have narrowly avoided disaster, Harry smiled as he held open his door for his company, if you could call it that. Lupin gave him a look that clearly said he would be questioning Harry about the encounter later. Shrugging it off for the moment, Harry shut the door.

Looking around sheepishly, Harry realized he didn't have anywhere for people to sit. "I'm, er, sorry. I never really have company, especially not up here." Mr. Diggory, holding a smashed model plane raised an eyebrow.

"Clearly," he said, smiling at Harry, though it seemed a little forced. Harry flushed.

"It used to be Dudley's room," he mumbled. "Where he kept his broken toys. I'm only here for the summer."

"Yes, you never come home on the holidays," Madame Bones said, eyeing him as though he were a particularly odd cross-bred magical creature.

"I like Hogwarts," was all Harry said.

"Any reason your bed frame is missing?" asked Alba. This time, Harry didn't blush.

"I like being close to the floor, in case I fall off," Harry said easily.

"And at Hogwarts?" asked Poole.

"He has his bed spelled," Lupin said, calmly. Harry smiled at him as the others weren't looking.

"Right, well, we're here for a purpose, aren't we?" Mr. Diggory said.

"Mr. Potter," Madame Bones said. "Where, exactly, have you been the last six weeks or so? Hmmm?" Harry squirmed.

"I'm not quite sure, to be exact, ma'am," Harry mumbled.

"Do you know who you were with?" asked Alba, conjuring a few chairs. Lupin sat next to Harry, politely declining a chair in favor of the mattress.

"I woke up this morning on my floor. My bed had my stuff on it, by the way. I figure you all must have gone through it for clues. Anyways, I felt like I had been asleep for a few days. I thought maybe I had been. After last year and all. I mean the last time I was here, in my mind, was yesterday, to me being the day after school let out," Harry said.

Madame Bones looked thoughtful.

"Harry, who is your godfather?" asked Poole. Lupin stiffened at Harry's side.

"Sirius Black," Harry said, slightly confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The Ministry holds the theory that you were kidnapped by Sirius Black," Lupin said through gritted teeth. "This, however, as you know, is not a possibility."

Harry looked at the Ministry officials in his room. A little over a year ago, before Voldemort's rebirth, Harry would have thought this impossible. Even afterwards it would be absurd. Here, on Privet Drive, was Harry's first life. The time he spent with wizards was a second life. It used to be completely separate from the Dursleys. Suddenly his worlds were crashing together with full force.

"Sirius Black couldn't have kidnapped me," Harry whispered. The Ministry workers looked uncomfortable.

"Mr. Potter," Poole said, "Minister Fudge has told us of your personal views on Black, but that does not mean we can rule out that possibility. It is the most logical theory."

"If, as you say, Sirius were Voldemort's servant," Harry purposefully ignored the flinches of Poole and Alba, "and Sirius had kidnapped me, I obviously would have been given to Voldemort. And then I would be dead. Besides which, Fudge didn't believe me about Voldemort, now did he. And which one of us was right? Why on earth would I defend Sirius if he had sold my parents to Voldemort?" Harry's hands were clutching his sheets. He wasn't sure whether he should tell them of Sirius's death, but as Lupin said nothing, Harry chose to remain silent.

Madame Bones had a rather knowing twinkle in her eyes, while Mr. Diggory seemed impassive. Poole and Alba looked a bit unsure.

"Right, well," Mr. Diggory said after a few moments of silence. "How did you come to be at the Ministry last spring?" Harry swallowed hard.

"What does any of this have to do with my summer?" Harry had certainly not been prepared for this. "Or are you just trying to get me sent to the psych ward at St. Mungo's?"

"Harry," Lupin berated quietly.

"Mr. Potter, the Ministry has a lot of time to cover with you," Poole said. "After the, uh, the Third Task." Mr. Diggory flinched, though Harry stared impassively at Poole. "We did not believe in your story of events. A s such, the Ministry is low on information concerning you. We have a year to catch up on." Harry snorted.

"I'm not exactly old chums with the Ministry," Harry said coldly. Poole rubbed his forehead.

"Answer the question, Mr. Potter," Alba said gently but sternly.

"This." Harry tapped his scar.

"How does that help us?" asked Alba sharply. Harry shrugged.

"It's the only answer I can give you. Unless you're talking about our mode of transportation," Harry added thoughtfully.

"And your mode of transportation?" asked Mr. Diggory.

"The Hogwarts thestral," Harry said quietly. "I could see them, and we learned about them in Care of Magical Creatures. Though I'm sure Umbridge told you about that lesson, as she was there. Luna and Neville, they could see them as well. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were riding on air, to their own appearances. They really were quite helpful. You know, the Ministry should probably try to compensate Hogwarts for Umbridge and her little episodes last year. Especially Hagrid and Trewlawny. That toad really was horrid to them."

"Let's focus, shall we?" Madame Bones said, eyebrows raised. But Harry could have sworn she winked at him. Suddenly she let out a shriek.

"What?" asked Harry quickly, pulling his wand from his pocket.

"Goodness, sorry to have startled you. I could have sworn I saw a cockroach or a beetle or something," Madame Bones said, hand on her heart.

"Not likely in this house. Just don't mention anything to Aunt Petunia. She'll tuen me into her personal exterminator," Harry said. Alba cleared her throat.

"I thought we were going to focus?"

The day went on like this, Harry carefully answering questions about the last year at school. He was sure that Mr. Diggory's trip to the lavatory during the questions about the DA was so that he could laugh. Harry refused to say anything, simply stating we wasn't about to be hit by Hermione's hexed parchment. Lupin looked impressed, obviously having not heard that bit of the story before.

It was around four when a door slamming signaled Uncle Vernon's return from work. "Boy!" Harry sighed heavily. "Potter, get down here!"

"Just a moment please," Harry said politely. He strode quickly to the door, hurrying down the steps. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?"

"Have you gotten rid of that blasted **friend **of yours? When are they coming to take you to those red heads?"

"Actually, Uncle Vernon-" But Harry was cut short with the clearing of Madame Bones's throat.

"Mr. Dursley, I'm Madame Bones, head of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic," she said formally.

"What's the boy done this time?" asked Vernon, shooting a glare at Harry. Harry said nothing.

"I thought you may like to know that he will be receiving a special acknowledgement, along with five of his friends, for their outstanding bravery in defending the entire world against the Dark Lord. You should be very proud," Madame Bones said. She grasped Harry's shoulder. "But, unfortunately, we still have a few questions for him."

"We?" Uncle Vernon choked.

"Yes. I'm here with Amos Diggory, of my department, as well as with Gregos Poole, an Unspeakable, and Amunet Alba, who is an Auror. We'll only be about an hour more." Madame Bones carefully steered Harry back to his room, leaving Uncle Vernon standing there sputtering.


	3. The Unexpected Results

_Harry Potter and the Library of Templar_

**Chapter Three:**

_The Unexpected Results_

A sharp pain in his hand awoke Harry. He groaned and rolled over, clearly not willing to leave the comfort of his bed. A sharp jab in his back, following by two on his neck, finally coaxed Harry into opening his eyes and sitting up. "Hedwig?"

The owl sat regarding Harry, as though appraising a rare jewel. She hooted in a satisfied manner, pushing her head against her owner's hand, demanding he stroke her. Harry laughed. "I missed you too, girl. What've you got there?" Gently, Harry lifted Hedwig up to his eyes, squinting at the envelope attached to her claws.

Hedwig flew from his fingers to the nightstand and back, depositing Harry's glasses into his lap. "Thanks," Harry mumbled. Finally being able to see clearly, Harry took the letter from Hedwig, settling back with her on his lap.

There was no writing on the envelope. Wary, he looked at Hedwig. She hooted in reassurance, nudging at his hand and the letter. "Alright, if you say so." Harry carefully opened the letter, letting out a long breath when nothing happened.

'**_Dear Mr. Potter,_**

_I have been informed of your return, and thus thought it only right to return your owl to you. During her stay, we have put Hedwig under numerous protection spells. She is quite the cooperative owl, seemed to know you would be coming back. It is now safe for Hedwig to deliver messages between yourself and your friends. I must impress upon you, however, the fact that important information should not be passed through any form other than face to face conversations. Not even the muggle telephone lines are safe._

_Now then, I imagine you wish to know when you will be allowed to depart from Privet Drive. I will be sending someone along tomorrow (or I suppose today, by the time Hedwig reaches you) to escort you to Mrs. Figg's. You will floo from there to the Leaky Cauldron. You and Weasleys and your guard will be able to shop for your school supplies. I have had Professor McGonagall include your supply list, as well as you O.W.L. scores. She wishes to express her sincere congratulations upon your scores._

_You'll be coming to headquarters, of course, now that you've returned. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have asked me to tell you that your birthday gifts are waiting in your room._

_**Professor A. Dumbledore**'_

Grinning happily at the prospect of seeing Ron and Hermione again, Harry moved on to the next parchment, where is O.W.L. scores were displayed.

_**O.W.L. Scores**_

_**Mr. Harry James Potter, Year Five, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

_Astronomy : Practical – P_

_Care of Magical Creatures : Practical – A _

_Charms : Practical – EE / Theory – EE_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts : Practical – O / Theory – O _

_Divination : Practical – P_

_History of Magic : Practical – P_

_Potions : Practical – O / Theory – O_

_Transfiguration : Practical – EE / Theory – EE_

_**Total ** : 10_

_Added to Mr. Potter's original total of nine, was his extraordinarily impressive work on his practical Defense Against the Dark Arts exam._

In awe, Harry read over his grades a few times, staring particularly long at his potions grade. He knew that he needed an _O_ to get into Snape's N.E.W.T. level class. He also knew that he needed to pass the potions N.E.W.T. to be accept into the Auror program. Though Harry had been questioning his sanity as of late concerning getting into the Ministry when he was so appalled by the Minister himself. The fact of the matter, however, was that Harry had needed an overall Outstanding to make Snape's cut.

Deciding to worry about school later, Harry began checking his room for missed belongings. He found this highly unlikely, seeing as he hadn't been there for more than three days of summer, but checked nonetheless. Deciding to take his Gryffindor banner (present from Neville, Dean, and Seamus) from his wardrobe back to school this year, Harry shut his trunk firmly.

Hearing the usual noises of Uncle Vernon preparing to leave for work, Harry hurried downstairs.

"Uncle Vernon."

His uncle, ready to leave, hand on the doorknob, stopped and turned to his nephew. Suddenly, the sharp contrast of life on Privet Drive at present to that of Harry's early childhood was astounding. For a moment, Harry was gobsmacked, mind racing over what would have happened to him, had he not been a wizard.

"Hurry up, boy," Uncle Vernon growled, impatience very clear. Harry shook himself free of his thoughts.

"I'm leaving today," Harry said. "Professor Dumbledore is sending someone over to pick me up. I'm not sure when, so I may not be here when you get home." Uncle Vernon looked at him, a rather poorly concealed rage at Harry's apparent audacity on his face.

"Don't leave any of your crap here," Vernon sneered. He slammed the door behind him as he left.

Shaking his head, Harry went into the kitchen to find Aunt Petunia and Dudley. He relayed his message to them, though the two didn't say anything. With a sigh Harry turned to leave. He paused at the door.

"I'm not too sure if I'll be back next summer," Harry said softly. Aunt Petunia turned to look at him, and he knew Dudley was listening, as the mechanical movement of his fork had stopped.

"What do you mean?" she asked, voice cracking slightly at the end. Harry hesitated.

"It's just that, with everything that's going on… well, I don't know what the circumstances will be next year. Things are changing so rapidly." Harry's voice had a definite hint of desperation. "And, all things considered, you're my only blood relatives. I mean, I don't want you all dead or anything. So… so I figured that if today may be the last day we see each other, I might as well let you know. In case you, well, you cared."

Harry didn't wait for any response; he wasn't really looking for one.

It was a little after noon when someone finally rang the bell. Harry, who had been sitting on the stairs counting the small polka dots on Aunt Petunia's lamp for the tenth time, jumped up, nearly falling face forward onto the carpet with his enthusiasm. His exuberance vanished when he wrenched the door open.

So stunned at seeing Professor Severus Snape on his doorstep, it took a moment for Harry to realize Professor McGonagall stood behind him. "Er, hi Professors," Harry said, somewhat lamely.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall intoned. Snape simply shot a contemptuous look at Harry.  
"Are you ready to depart?"

"Yes," Harry said, smiling slightly once again. He refused to let Snape damper his unusually pleasant mood. "Only since we're going all the way to Mrs. Figg's, I figured you might do a lightening charm on my trunk. I left it up in my room."

"Of course, Potter," McGonagall said. Her eyes wandered past Harry's shoulder. Figuring his aunt must have been peeking out from the kitchen, he was surprised to turn and see Dudley standing in the hall. He was staring, wide-eyed at Professor Snape, who was, in turn, gazing at him coolly.

"Right then, my room's upstairs," Harry said, deciding that Dudley was having far too much exposure to wizards this summer.

McGonagall's curiosity seemed to want to hold her near Dudley, though she followed Harry upstairs without comment. Snape stalked along behind her, looking murderous.

"Who was that?" McGonagall asked as soon as Harry shut the door to his room.

"Dudley, my cousin." Harry was astonished McGonagall's logic hadn't placed that together. Snape snorted. "What?"

"That _thing _can hardly be classified as human. He looks like he has swallowed a hippogriff whole," Snape sneered. McGonagall gave him a scathing look.

"Well, that's Dud for you," Harry said, slightly amused that he and Snape agreed upon anything. But as Snape looked around Harry's room with distaste, loathing slowly returned to Harry. He ignored Snape's tutting as he inspected the room. McGonagall was looking at the mattress on Harry's floor.

"Is your bed frame broken, Mr. Potter?" questioned McGonagall. Harry gave her an odd glance.

"Um, no. I just sleep on a mattress," Harry said. Wondering why everyone cared so much about his mattress, Harry pointed to his trunk. "There it is. My whole life compressed into that trunk." Snape made an odd noise, though when Harry glanced at him, he was simply looking out of the window.

Without comment, McGonagall, instead of lightening the trunk shrunk it to the size of a match box. She handed it to Harry, telling him to ask someone at Grimmauld Place to change it back to it original size when he arrived. "No time to dawdle, Potter." McGonagall turned and led them out of the room. Harry left last, feeling his professors' gaze on him as he shut the door. Snape, he noticed, lingered a moment before following.

Much to Harry's surprise, his aunt stood at the bottom of the stairs. Saying nothing, she handed him an old envelope with what felt to be a novel inside and a small, rather worn blue baby blanket, then proceeded to walk back into the kitchen. Flipping it over, Harry saw the relatively familiar script of Albus Dumbledore forming his aunt and uncle's names. Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry pulled out the worn letter inside. Seeing the date in the corner, Harry realized it had to have been left with him all those years ago, straight after his parents' deaths.

"Albus left you wrapped in that," McGonagall said, pointing at the blanket. Harry nodded, somewhat mystified. Concluding that years of magical exposure was certainly changing the Dursleys in a decidedly odd way, Harry folded the blanket and slipped the letter into the folds.

"Do you think you could shrink this as well?" Harry asked, a bit hesitant. McGonagall nodded and did as Harry asked. "Thanks."

By the time that they reached Mrs. Figg's, Harry was very uncomfortable. They had spent the entire duration of the journey in silence. A heavy tension hung between Harry and Snape, one that McGonagall was clearly confused by.

"Now then, Potter," McGonagall instructed. "I'll be flooing there before you, and Professor Snape will follow us, a few seconds later. He's going to be acting as if he's completely separate from us, in case any Death Eaters are there. We don't want anyone getting suspicious. I'll be going around with you, Miss Granger, and the Weasleys. You may see Se – Professor Snape today. I'll expect you to have the common sense not to say anything to him. He has is own shopping to be doing." With that, McGonagall flooed away.

Standing rather nervously next to his potions professor, Harry tapped his trainer on the floor, counting in his head to ten. An eternity seemed to stretch between each number.

One.

He could feel Snape's glare on him.

Two.

Snape had to know that he was cracking his fingers. Harry certainly heard it.

Three.

Harry decided he hated silence.

Four.

He hated silence almost as much as he hated Snape.

Five.

What was Snape's problem anyways? Harry reasoned that he had a right to be angry; Snape had been horrid to him since the first day.

Six.

Then again, Harry's father had been a real bully in the pensive.

Seven.

Harry would have reasoned that Snape was resentful for the Pensive incident itself, but that was nearly five years into this hate-pattern.

Eight.

Snape did save Harry's life an awful lot though. For someone who hated him.

Nine.

Even after that life debt with Harry's father was repaid. There was that incident with Lupin.

Ten.

_Hell yes._

Harry wasted no time in grabbing a handful of powder and hastily (albeit carefully) flooing to the Leaky Cauldron.

McGonagall nodded to him, and they turned to leave. Harry heard, as they stepped out into the alley, Snape arriving through the fireplace. The sight of Susan Bones and her aunt at the alley brought Harry back from his wandering thoughts.

"Good day, Mr. Potter," Madame Bones said, smiling widely. "Minerva, a pleasure as always."

"Amelia!" Harry watched with a bit of amusement as the two began talking as if they were old friends. Which, Harry supposed, wasn't really a big surprise.

"Hello, Harry," Susan said, smiling softly. Harry, for some odd reason, felt a slight flutter in shi stomach.

"Hullo, Susan." Harry realized quickly that he and Susan had very little in common. "So, what N.E.W.T. classes are you taking?" Grinning a little wider, Susan and Harry followed the adults into Diagon Alley.

"Well, I was really excited when I got into Potions and Defense. I was really worried, what with Snape and Umbridge. I want to be an Auror ─ have since I was a toddler ─ and I really needed those grades. Plus I got into Charms and Transfiguration. Aunt Mia's letting me buy something extra today. I was thinking about a cat or something," Susan said, rather quickly. Harry was surprised to find that the apparently she girl had such a set of lungs. "What do you want to do?"

"Actually, well, um," Harry was blushing, he knew, "I was thinking about being an Auror as well." Susan nodded enthusiastically.

"That's brilliant!" Susan looked hesitant, momentarily falling silent. She glanced up, seeing Harry's friends not far off. "Look, I feel really odd asking, but are you cont-" Susan stopped short as a hysterical Hermione threw herself against Harry.

"Harry!" Harry was startled by the sobbing edge in Hermione's voice. "I've been so worried, Harry. So worried. What if Voldemort had you? Or you'd died?" Harry carefully eased out of Hermione's death grip. He appreciated her affection and worry, but he would rather like to keep insides from being crushed.

Ron stood before him, unsure for a moment. But Hermione grabbed them both by their necks, quickly pinning them all in a large group hug. Harry felt Ron's hand tentatively pat his back. "Good to know you've not been rotting in Malfoy's cellar, mate," Ron said. Hermione gasped and pulled away, smacking Ron on the chest.

"Ronald, that is not funny! I hadn't even thought of that!" she tittered. Smiling over the top of the girl's head, Ron winked at Harry. Ron, Harry noted, stood a little taller than he used to.

Harry smiled and shook his head in exasperation, causing Ron to grin as well. "Hermione," Harry said gently. "Calm down. I'm perfectly alright."

Hermione seemed to cool down immensely, though still keeping a close eye on her friend. Glancing about to see who would be their guard for the day, Hermione adopted a surprised look. "Harry, what on earth are Madame and Susan Bones doing with you?" she whispered. Ron, eyes going wide, looked over at Madame Bones.

Harry shrugged. "They were outside in the alley when McGonagall and I got there." Noticing how his friends were gaping at Madame Bones, Harry became extremely confused. "What's so astounding about Madame Bones? I told you she was at my hearing last year-"

"No, you didn't!" Hermione snapped.

"Harry," Ron said quietly, "Madame Bones **never **comes out in public, or at least, she doesn't associate very much. She's head of Magical Law Enforcement. It's a rather dangerous position."

"Honestly Ron," Hermione muttered. "Madame Bones is very powerful. When Voldemort was last around, she met him face-to-face. She _escaped_. Harry, your parents were with her. Voldemort left, of course, before they did. But they were nearly _Avada_'d."

"She's got a Chocolate Frog card," Ron said in awe. Hermione sighed in exasperation.

"Aunt Mia thinks that's the coolest thing, too." Ron and Hermione had the decency to look ashamed as they turned to Susan. The tips of Ron's ears were definitely red and Hermione was twisting her hands. Susan smiled at them. "Don't worry, lots of people are shocked to see Aunt Amelia. But she doesn't get recognized that much anymore. So I convinced her to bring me school shopping this year. Usually I go with one of my cousins."

"She's your aunt?" Hermione asked. "I knew she had to be related to you somehow─ I read about her in _The Rise and the Fall of the Dark Arts_. Then I hear your name at the sorting in first year. I never thought she would end up being your aunt though." Harry began reflexively tuning out Hermione's ranting. He smiled, watching her gesture animatedly with her hands. Ron, too, had a glazed look in his eyes. Susan, on the other hand, for all appearances, seemed to be genuinely interested in what Hermione was saying.

It went on this way, Harry and Ron nodding at the girls, pretending that they were listening, as Ron and Hermione led them all towards Gringotts. Harry glanced behind them, seeing McGonagall and Madame Bones following. By the looks on their faces, they were discussing something serious. Both conversations ended as the group entered the wizard's bank.

"Harry!" Bracing himself, Harry met Mrs. Weasley's hug calmly, much less surprised with her reaction than with Hermione's. Once released, Mr. Weasley approached him. Unsure, Harry waited for the man to move.

"We've missed you, Harry," Mr. Weasley said softly. He tugged the boy into a quick, one-armed hug, causing Harry to blush.

Fred and George popped up on either side of him, catching him between themselves. They proceeded to squeeze together, crushing Harry. "Dearing darlist!" Fred boomed, attracting a few eyes.

"Muffin cakes!" George added, pulling away. They finished off with each giving him a sloppy kiss on his forehead.

"Yes, George, that's attractive." Harry looked at the youngest Weasley, rolling her eyes at the twins.

"Excuse me!" George looked rather appalled. "Fred did it as well." Sighing, Ginny threw her hands in the air, pretending to be fed up. She smiled crookedly at Harry, giving him a brief hug, ignoring the kissing noises from her brother. But, Harry noticed as Charlie and Bill quickly gave him a squeeze, she stomped on their toes furiously as she walked over to Hermione, Ron, and Susan.

"Susan, we'd best go get some money from the vault," called Madame Bones.

"Of course, Aunt Mia, just a moment." Susan turned back to her fellow Hogwarts students. "It was nice talking with you Hermione. I'll be sure to get back to you with that book. See you soon!" She waved, walking quickly to catch up with her aunt, easily sliding her arm through the woman's and falling into stride with her.

"Well then!" Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands together. "Harry, why don't you and Professor McGonagall go retrieve some money from your vault. We'll wait with Hermione to exchange her money. What time are we meeting your parents, darling?"

Harry followed his professor and the goblin in front of her to the carts, moving out of the way for two goblins muttering together as they passed. Harry felt a little uneasy as the cart he and McGonagall were in screeched to a stop. Realizing they were at McGonagall's vault, he sat back in the cart, waiting for her to return. He did notice, though, that the contents of the vault made a shimmer on the opposite wall. In consequence, when he filled his money bag, he felt little unease with his professor's presence, knowing she had a fair bit of money herself.

It took a moment for Harry to adjust to the bright light once outside of Gringotts. As Mrs. Weasley spotted them and began the way to Flourish and Blotts, Harry noticed that the twins were gone. And he felt a tingle of excitement upon remembering that their shop was in Diagon Alley. He realized that they must have left the store to come and greet him.

Harry pulled out his book list, ready to find what he needed. It was then that he realized that Ron and Hermione would not be purchasing the same books as him; they would not be in his same classes. In a quick chain of thoughts, Harry became suddenly aware that he didn't know how they had done on their O.W.L.s.

"I got eight," Ron said. "Better than Fred and George, at least."

"So which classes are you taking?" asked Harry. He scratched his neck, hoping his itch would go away.

"Defense, obviously, my best exam thanks to you, and Charms; it was easier than the others, I suppose. I'm not sure if McGonagall will let me into Transfiguration. I only got acceptable on theory. Potions was a bit of a surprise. I got poor on practical, of course, but I got an acceptable on theory. There was a little not saying I nearly got an exceeds expectations. Obviously I'm buggering on that class." Hermione gave a disapproving noise at this. "Come on Hermione, you know he'd never even consider me. I'm sure he'll be in a right state at you getting in."

Harry smiled at Hermione knowingly. "And you Hermione? How did you do?" Harry was pleased to see her color slightly.

"Well, you know, I had to take more exams than you, so my total had a chance of being higher-"

"Just tell him, Hermione. We expected you to blow us all away. Merlin, Harry, she's refused to tell me until either the school year started or you showed up. It's been right annoying. I expect Ginny nicked her letter though, they were giggling and chatting all through supper that night." Ron rolled his eyes for effect.

"So, let's hear it then, Hermione," jested Harry.

She mumbled something so low and so fast that Ron demanded she repeat it. "Thirteen!" The clerk behind the counter gave her the evil eye as many shoppers turned to look at her. Flushing deeper, Hermione pulled the boys behind a few shelves. "I got thirteen O.W.L.s. Happy now, Ronald?"

Ron was simply staring at her, stunned. "Hermione, **no one** gets thirteen O.W.L.s!" Hermione sniffed.

"Madam Bones got thirteen," Hermione said loftily. "And so have others, Ron. It's not unheard of. Harry's Mum got twelve and so did Percy."

As Ron looked stricken, Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. Harry felt a sickening feeling take over him. "What happened with Percy?" Ron glowered.

"He hasn't said anything to most of us. Mum's not been to see him for a long time; I suspect she's had enough. But Dad ran into him a few weeks ago. Ginny overheard him talking to Mum about how Percy was a right prick to him. Gin said that Dad was going on about how Percy didn't even look him in the eye. He still thinks he's right," Ron hissed. Harry saw a glimmer in his eyes that he wasn't quite sure he liked.

Harry was sure to avoid the topic of Percy for the rest of the day. When the group split up, Harry hardly noticed McGonagall following them. They got through the rest of the day without incident. Some of their friends stopped to say hi, Neville Longbottom, the Creevey brothers, and Luna Lovegood among them. Fortunately, Harry didn't see Snape again, nor did they encounter Draco Malfoy, thanks to Ginny's warning as they passed each other outside of the quidditch store in the afternoon.

And so, as the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry, and Professor McGonagall set out into muggle London after shopping, Harry felt quite satisfied that they had made excellent progress. Hermione, with a casual confidence the others weren't used to, led them through London, trekking through a few shady-looking streets. They reemerged on a bright, pleasant-looking street of office buildings, passing through a white door into 'Drs. Granger and Granger Dental Service.'

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione motioned for everyone to find a seat in the waiting room. The group took up nearly all of the chairs. There was only one patient there, a woman who looked small and flexible.

"Back here, Hermione!" called a woman's voice. "I'll be done in a moment, just finishing up Becca. Be a dear and fetch that husband of mine from our office. He's reading that blasted book you gave him." Hermione smiled, shaking her head.

"Ron, Harry, come on, I'll show you their office," Hermione said. Standing, the two boys followed their best friend back through a hallway to three plain wooden doors with silver nameplates on the front. They passed through the one labeled Granger and Granger.

A man with dark brown hair, nose dusted with light freckles, lay sprawled on the ground, reading a book with moving pictures. Harry thought he looked like leopard, eyes cat-like and sharp. He looked up quickly at them as they entered. A smile spread across his face, making him seem much gentler.

"Hullo, Daddy," Hermione said. "This is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, if you'll remember." He rolled his eyes in exasperation at his daughter.

"You realize that I never forget anything, correct?"

"Except for those times you go out to the car in your pajamas, right?" Mr. Granger looked at her indignantly.

"I," he said loftily, "am the father here. You need to learn some respect."

"Mum and the Weasleys are waiting," Hermione said, grinning and tugging Harry and Ron from the room with her. "Oh, and Professor McGonagall as well. She's Harry's guard."

It wasn't long before the entire group sat outside of a café a few streets over. Mr. and Mrs. Granger sat talking with the Weasley parents and McGonagall while Bill and Charlie told them stories about Egypt and Romania, which were more for Harry and Hermione than anyone else.

"The girls in Egypt are quite fascinating," Bill said casually. His hair, still long, was loosely braided today, giving him a more punk look than usual.

"Fleur would kill you," Ginny said sweetly.

"The French girls are even better," Bill said mannishly.

"Oh, honestly. Women aren't meat," Hermione snapped. "It's degrading." Bill, Charlie, and the twins exchanged laughter.

"You mean it would upset you if some boy were to be telling his friends that he thought you were as hot as dragon's fire?" Charlie asked. "Because you may want to have a chat with Krum. From what the twins said, he thought you were quite the number." Ron made a choking noise and Hermione went scarlet.

"Do you have a problem with that Ron? Am I truly so grotesque and masculine that you find it impossible for someone to think I'm pretty? Besides, Vikitor and I are _friends _and nothing more. We're talking about the twins. Who knows how they found out what he said, Charlie!"

"Excuse me," Fred interrupted. "We happened to get it straight from him."

"Yes, he wrote it in his journal," George added. "You know, it was remarkably clean on the Durmstrang ship." Hermione stared at them.

"You **broke into **the Durstrang ship." The twins grinned. The other boys were carefully trying to stifle their laughter at Hermione's tone. But she surprised them all with what she said next. "You must be pretty good at breaking defense charms then. After all, Kakaroff was a you-know-what."

Harry snorted. "Just because Kakaroff was with **him** doesn't mean he had any talent. It's sort of like a Dimu-" Harry stopped short.

"A what?" prodded Ron.

"Nevermind, just something the Dursleys would say," Harry muttered, waving his hand. Hermione and Ron looked at him suspiciously but he smiled sincerely.

After they had finished eating, they all headed back towards Grimmauld Place. At the corner, Hermione hugged her parents good-bye, saying she'd see them at King's Cross. With a wave to the Granger's, everyone trooped quietly into the house.

Looking around, Harry felt an odd mix of calm and horror. The surroundings were, unfortunately, just as dark and unwelcoming as before. But the familiarity was a comfort after months of being gone. Ron and Hermione immediately headed upstairs and Harry followed. They entered his and Ron's room, shutting the door behind them.

"Where had you been?" asked Hermione. Harry sighed, going to sink onto his bed. Only there was a large pile of letters and newspapers there. Flopping back on Ron's bed instead, his friends plopped down next to him.

"I can't honestly tell you," Harry said, staring at the ceiling. "But it feels like I've been gone forever."

"I know what you mean," Ron said.

"But Harry, you have know where you were!" Hermione cried. Harry pushed up on his elbows, looking at the two people that knew so many of his childhood secrets. So much had changed. They didn't know half of what he knew now. He couldn't help but feel anger at Voldemort surge through him, anger at himself.

"I didn't tell the Order," Harry said. Ron sighed.

"Harry, we understand that you're not too pleased with Dumbledore, for some unexplainable reason. You've been mad at him for a long time. And you can't tell something to the Order with out Dumbledore knowing," Hermione said earnestly.

Ron glared at his friend, grabbing a few letters from the bed and tossing them to Harry. "Read those."

Harry did so, looking guiltily at his friends when he had finished. Standing, he set the letters on his bed again and began pacing around the room.

"Look, mate, Hermione and I know you've been through hell. We want to try and help you as much as we can. But all you've done is yell at us. What are we supposed to do? Everyone's noticed it. You need to control your temper."

Harry whirled to face him in frustration. "Me! What about YOU! Ron, you've got the worst temper I know of!" Ron shrugged calmly at him.

"You've bottled your temper all of your life at the Dursleys. Now you've got so much that's its all coming out. Hermione and I are sick of being the ones you take it out on."

Harry opened his mouth to give a furious reply, but stopped, looking at the letters he had read. They had all said it. Frustrated, he ran his hand through his hair.

"I-I'm sorry you guys. I just…. I dunno," Harry said, breathing out slowly. "I know you're just trying to help but with Voldemort and everything."

"Harry, that's just it," said Hermione, voice gentle. "We don't know anymore. You've stopped telling Ron and me this stuff. Why can't you let it out?"

Harry looked up, eyes showing his desperate hurt. "Merlin, I want to tell you. But I-I _can't_. It was so much easier, just when school had started, to talk about these things. I'd always wanted to. But now… now it's not quite so amazing. And everything is so much more important. I really don't mean to lose it on you. I really want you to know everything."

"So tell us," Hermione offered softly. Harry took a few deep breaths.

"Right then."

A loud crack sounded and Fred and George stood in the room as well. "Mum wants you all in the sitting room for Harry to open his presents."

"What presents?" asked Harry.

"Birthday presents," Ron said shortly. "We're coming. Just a moment."

"Now, Ron. Besides Harry's just yelling again." Harry blinked at George. He hadn't been loud at all. "We can sense the hostility in the air. Such negative charges."

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. "They'll never go away. We might as well go down." Shrugging, the two boys followed.

It was as good hour later and Harry was still opening gifts. The Order members were drifting in and out of the room, much as they had been when he began this odd ordeal. The elder Weasleys had gone off after he had opened their gifts: a small box with odd Egyptian inscriptions from Bill, a dragon scale from Charlie, a plain muggle shoebox with a label reading 'Dangerous Content Within' from Fred and George, a small hand-sewn blanket with an H in the middle from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, a black braided bracelet with an anomalous green rock in the middle from Ginny, and an impressive album for a Chocolate Frog Card collection from Ron. Hermione had signed her name and her parents' names to a muggle portable CD player and a small stack of CDs that Ron was amusing himself and Hermione with.

Harry had been surprised to find gifts from Tonks, Moody, and other Order members. Most of them were candy or books on defense or Auror training. Apparently Harry's prospective career was now common knowledge. His roommates and other friends such as Katie Bell, Lee Jordan, the Creevey brothers and Luna Lovegood, who had never sent him gifts before, had sent him small knickknacks and such.

Harry leaned back and sighed, grabbing a small package wrapped in Gryffindor red and gold. "Why did so many people send presents this year?" Hermione looked up from her seat on the couch with Ron and Ginny, setting the CD she was holding down.

"Harry, tons of people were owling Ron and me with letters asking about where you were or saying how much they felt for us and other such nonsense." Ron gave her a look that Harry failed to understand but made Hermione blush slightly. "Well, okay, I was rather upset when I heard so their condolences weren't too crazy, but still. Don't you see Harry?"

"Er, not really."

"They sent you gifts because it was their way of showing they though you'd return," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at Hermione. "You should just tell him. He and Ron never know what you're going on about. Hell, I don't half the time, and I'm a girl."

"I beg your pardon!" Ron looked cross. "I knew what she meant. Harry was the one being thick." Harry sputtered indignantly. Ginny gave him a slightly dirty look, darling him to say it wasn't true.

"I'm not **always** thick," Harry muttered in defense.

Ginny smiled kindly. "Of course not, dear."

"I'm not!"

Harry, now being ignored by Ginny and laughed at by his best friends, muttered to himself about the indignity of it all as he tore the paper from the package he held. Frowning when he had gone through two more layers of paper, in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff colors no less, Harry faced Slytherin green and silver. "Is this some sort of magic?"

Hermione motioned for it and Harry quickly handed it off to her. After examining it carefully, Hermione announced her verdict. "No, there's nothing magical about it. It's muggle paper, not dancing patters or spelled layers. You'll just have to keep going."

"Who's it from?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "No name." He pulled the layer off and a dark purple one after that, to finally reach a tan box. "Looks like some jewelry box."

"Open it, you lard," Ginny demanded, leaning closer.

"You've turned rather nasty, you know. I think I preferred the days when you didn't talk around me. A lot nicer, you were," Harry said, glaring at Ginny. She smiled innocently.

"I have no idea what you speak of."

"For Merlin's sake," Hermione said impatiently, eyes on the box. "It's just her time of the month, Harry." It took a moment for Harry to get what she meant, and he promptly went red. Ron gagged and pretended to throw up. "Boys! Just open it. I want to know what it is."

Harry hesitated. What would happen if it was cursed? He voiced his worries to his friends. "Oh, you don't need to worry. The Order checked all of your presents and letters and stuff when it arrived. It's not like they had to be on guard duty with you gone or anything."

Opening the box, Harry found a glimmering golden key settled in a sea of fluffy white cotton. Confused, Harry pulled it out and held it in the air, spying the number 921. "Er, Hermione, you know what this is?"

"I believe I can help you with that," came a voice from the doorway.


	4. The Key to Vault Nine Hundred and Twenty...

_Harry Potter and the Library of Templar_

**Chapter Four :**

_The Key to Vault Nine Hundred and Twenty-One_

"Don't **do **that, Bill," Hermione scolded. Giving her a cheeky grin reminiscent of Ron, the eldest Weasley brother sat down on the chair Harry was leaning against.

"That's a key," Bill announced. Harry glanced again at the highly-polished gold in his hands.

"But you said you know what it's for," Harry said. Bill seemed to contemplate this, deciding he should speak when he saw the look on his sister's face.

"It's a key to Gringotts." Ron snorted at him.

"Obviously, but whose?" persisted Ron.

"Well, Ron, you're Harry's best friend. Who would give him a vault key for his sixteenth birthday? Bill patronized. Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Harry cut him off.

"No one."

"Your parents," Bill said, looking uncomfortable in the awkward silence that fell upon the group.

Harry blinked, not really minding the talk of his parents. "They're dead." Immediately, Harry went through a chain reaction, brought to his morbid thoughts of Sirius. Swallowing hard, Harry focused on Ron's words.

"I suppose no one's bothered to tell you, but turning sixteen is a bit of a big deal if you're the oldest in an old pureblood line. I was really young when Bill had his sixteenth birthday, but I still remember it. There was this huge party and Uncle Reggie got Mum drunk! Best time ever."

Bill laughed. "That was a lot of fun."

"I knew turning sixteen was a bit of a celebration in the muggle world," Harry offered, rather pathetically he thought.

"You wouldn't believe what my grandmother wanted," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "She was adamant on Mum and Dad keeping me home from school until after my birthday so she could throw me a ball. It was disgusting."

"You never said anything about that," Ron said. "You never talk about your grandparents."

"There's a reason for that," said Hermione. She shook her head and muttered something under her breath. Ron looked at Harry with raised eyebrows. Harry shrugged.

"Why's sixteen so important?" he asked.

"The year an heir turns sixteen, it marks his journey from an adolescent to an adult. These are the years that are supposed to shape the man you will become. Traditionally, a wizard receives a key to a family vault on this day."

"But I have the key to mine," Harry interrupted.

"Let me finish, Potter," Bill intoned. "You have the key to a vault with part of the Potter fortune. The Potter aren't as old as the Weasleys but you're a pretty old line. You're sure to have a nice collection of treasure and heirlooms. I got this really weird armor from the Roman age or something."

"So I have a treasure vault now?" Harry asked slowly. Bill nodded in affirmation. "Bloody hell, I have to clean it." Harry began muttering darkly, making a list in his head of all the things he would likely need.

"Why on earth would you clean it?" asked Ginny. The idea seemed to amaze her. Ron mirrored this.

"Because you can't find anything when everything is all over," Harry intoned. "Important things need to be orderly. That way when you need it, you don't have to go through piles of junk to find it."

"I never knew that you liked your things neat, Harry," Hermione said pleasantly.

Harry blinked at her. "Well, you are a bit of a freak about that, Hermione." She looked rather put out. So he hastily added, "but it's charming, of course. I suppose that this is just something that stuck. I used to clean and organize the attic every time the Dursleys added something. There was this one incident, when I was four and Aunt Petunia was looking for some portrait of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge's great-great-great-great-grandfather or something and she couldn't find it. After that, I had to keep everything in order up there."

Bill, for some reason, seemed a bit startled at the story. Hermione and Ron exchanged a quick look of exasperation and Ginny seemed slightly annoyed. He figured that he should have kept this slight narcotic of his to himself.

"Do you think they'd let us go to Diagon Alley again tomorrow or something? I mean, I was hoping to take care of this before we left for school. Get it off of my mind."

"I suppose it's up to Dumbledore," Ron said with a shrug. Harry felt his stomach clench in anger.

"Of course it is. It must have burnt him up inside, knowing that he lost me," Harry spat bitterly. He squeezed the key tightly in his hand, anger at Dumbledore sweeping through him. The sound of shattering glass made them all look at the grandfather clock in the corner, the glass now lying in shards on the floor. He was shocked, somewhere inside. He hadn't realized how mad he still was. Apparently the lazy novelty at being back among wizards was wearing off. Everything that had happened was suddenly beginning to become sharper in focus.

Harry dimly noticed Bill exit the room, eyes understanding.

Hermione sighed softly. "We knew you were still upset." Harry spun around. She looked slightly scared, hand clamped over her mouth. But Harry just stared at her. "Sorry, Harry. It's just… well…."

"You were a right royal prick last year," Ginny said casually, picking a bit of dirt from under her nail. Harry let a slow breath out and sunk back into the couch.

"I believe I'm perfectly justified. Dumbledore…" Harry didn't finish, eyes flashing.

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned to him, leaning forward. "I don't care if you were angry. Bully for you! Pummel the life out of your pillow, or fly at breakneck speed on your broom, or, I dunno, blow something up. But Ron and Hermione took all of your crap last year, and I don't think they deserve it again this year."

Harry blinked at the girl in front of him. Her eyes were blazing and her voice rung slightly in the room. Huffing, she went back to her nails. Harry could feel himself start to blush.

He turned to Ron and Hermione. Hermione was wringing her hands nervously and Ron was staring intently at the floor. Studying them, he thought for a moment. Hermione's eyes kept flitting up to him. Ron kept flexing his toes and twitching.

"She's right." Harry didn't understand why his voice was slightly hoarse. Hermione froze and Ron's head snapped up. Harry shifted uncomfortably at their startled expressions. "I mean about how I treated you. I was angry and all, but you didn't deserve it. And I'm not going to pretend that I'm not still angry or anything, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you two."

"Harry, that's what we're here for. We knew it would be different. After Cedric." Hermione gently squeezed Harry's hand as his breathing sped up a bit.

"And we didn't suffer alone," smirked Ron. "You went off on a few other people."

"I suppose I, er, should apologize to you too Ginny." Harry glanced guiltily at her. She waved it off.

"I understand. After all, Voldemort was rather testy as well, and one can only assume that bloody scar of yours was twitching like a bugger." She glanced up with an evil little smile on her lips. "Besides, you were quite right in telling Ron and Hermione off in the Great Hall. They do fight too bloody much."

"Watch your language, Ginny," Hermione snapped, slightly red. Ron's ears were coloring, Harry noticed absently. "And, Harry, we already talked about this. Ron showed you those letters and everything."

"I can't promise things will be the same as before," Harry whispered. "I want to. But I can't. Voldemort… he isn't just going to go away. And as long as he's still around, he's still part of me." Harry let his head fall into his hands.

"What are talking about?" Ron's voice had wavered, and his hands twitched ever so slightly. Harry swallowed, realizing what he had let slip.

"You don't know everything that happened at the end of last term."

"Obviously," said Ginny. "You were even worse afterwards. Understandably so. What with Sirius and all. But you were in Dumbledore's office for a long time."

Harry laughed, his voice cracking to more of a sob in the middle. "I chased Bellatrix out by the fountain, after Si…Sirius."

"And then?" whispered Hermione. They seemed frightened. As if interrupting him or allowing him to stop would end this timid revelation. Harry realized how much he had yet to tell them, and regretted it.

There had been a time when the three had shared everything. Ron and Hermione used to know all about his issues with Voldemort. But now…. Harry looked warily, brokenly up at them.

"Ron! Hermione! Ginny! Harry!" The others jumped at the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice. Suddenly, Harry was knocked out of the slight trace he had been in. Glancing at his friends as he crossed the room to the doorway, he shuddered, thinking of what he had almost told them. What would they have thought? He was no better than Voldemort himself.

Harry heard Ron moving around as soon as he stirred. Cracking an eye open, Harry saw that it was five o'clock in the morning. "Ron, what the bloody fuck are you doing?"

"I just needed to send an owl," Ron said, whispering despite the fact no one but Harry was in the room.

"Right. Do it quieter next time. And preferably not in the hours when normal people are asleep." Harry rolled over, hoping to catch up on lost sleep. It was no go. Moaning in resignation to his alert state, Harry heard Ron flop back into bed. Within moments, Ron's breath evened, telling Harry his friend was asleep again.

Harry crawled quietly out of bed.

Dressed in a pair of Dudley's old jeans (which were not so loose anymore, Harry noted wryly) and one of his school shirts, Harry left the room and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He forced himself to keep memories at bay ─ Sirius, singing ─ Sirius, grinning ─ as he moved through the house.

Happy to have reached his destination, Harry walked into the room without hesitation and immediately moved to make himself tea. Distracted, Harry literally jumped in the air when a voice sounded behind him.

"Not even a good morning, Potter?"

A chill ran down his spine. Careful to keep his breathing calm, Harry looked blankly at Snape. "Good morning." Snape sneered.

"What are you doing up at this hour? Instigating trouble? Of course you are. What else does our resident Golden Boy do?"

Harry turned sharply and continued with his tea. Nothing more was said between the two as Harry finished. Silently, he pulled two cups from the cabinet and set them on the table and poured himself a cup of tea. The teapot and the other cup sat innocently between the two.

Harry's eyes closed in welcome as the tea warmed him. So involved in the calm state he had found, he was startled when he heard the scraping of the tea cup. Looking at Snape, he saw the man had poured himself a cuppa. His hands were shaking.

"What are you doing here?"

Snape raised one thin eyebrow. "I am a member of the Order, Potter. This is our headquarters. I have every right to be here. You, however, are not a member. What is your excuse?"

Harry glared at his Potions professor.

"No comment? What a shame."

"Severus." Harry broke the intense staring match, turning to Professor Dumbledore with barely contained vehemence. "Mr. Potter." Harry said nothing, only turned resolutely to his tea. "Severus, Poppy is waiting for you." The Potions Master took his leave with a final glare of loathing towards Harry, leaving Harry alone with the Headmaster.

Silence reigned as Harry felt the old wizard's eyes on him.

"Where were you, Harry?" Not sure of exactly why, Harry felt a bit of triumph run through him. Dumbledore knew nothing of where he had been. It felt nice, to have outsmarted the man who thought he knew everything.

"I couldn't tell you," Harry said evasively, happy that he was able to so easily twist this truth.

"You know where you were," Dumbledore said softly. "I know you do." Harry stared unblinkingly at him. The years that made Dumbledore were suddenly visible and Harry felt a flash of guilt before his anger took over. Wearily, Dumbledore seated himself in a chair. "Why do you not tell me the truth?"

"I have never lied to you." Harry's tone did nothing to disguise the insinuation in his words.

Dumbledore's sigh filled the room. "Is this really how it must be, Harry? You wish for your anger to be a barrier between us?" Harry stared incredulously at the powerful wizard.

"My anger?" Harry felt his incredulousness down to his toes and up to the tip of his hair. "It's not anger. It's resentment." With that, Harry stormed from the room, not quite able to dodge the slightly guilty feeling that floated back from the image of Dumbledore's desperate, hopeless aged face.

It was hours later when the door to the roof opened behind Harry. He didn't bother to turn. He knew few people would have approached him while he was in one of his moods. And, truthfully, Harry wasn't certain he wanted to be alone.

"You woke up nearly the entire house, storming up here."

"It didn't stop you from following, did it?" Harry was careful to keep all malice from his voice. Remus gave a half-chuckle.

"Got me there, Harry." The werewolf settled next to him. Harry didn't turn, but Lupin made no move to force him into a conversation. They sat together, saying nothing, only staring at the empty muggle street that stretched before them. Harry, who had lost his anger long before, hugged his knees to his chest, mind relentlessly drifting to all the places Harry wished it would stray from.

"You know, it always amused me, this neighborhood." Harry looked at Lupin, waiting for him to expand on his comment. "The Blacks were firm supporters of flushing all muggle blood out of the wizarding world. Odd, isn't it, that around their grand house, muggle built their community. This area used to be part of wizarding London, a long time ago."

"That's irony for you," Harry said, somewhat bitterly. His mind strayed to Sirius, thinking of the barking laugh he would have given in response to Lupin's observation. His thoughts took their banal path and soon Harry was retracing his steps that night at the end of last term.

If he had only…. No, Harry would not allow himself to do this again. He had spent the entire summer avoiding wallowing. He was not about to start now. Besides, if Kreacher hadn't lied - if Snape had actually reassured him or done something sooner – if Dumbledore had told him the truth, if he had looked at him, had helped him to learn Occlumency instead of shipping him off to Snape –

Harry gave an angry hiss and slammed his fist against the roof. Lupin jumped though if Harry hadn't seen it happen he'd have thought the older man made no reaction as he returned to simply watching the teenage boy next door let out his large dog.

The silence between them was soon strained, as Harry waited expectantly for Lupin to begin saying something. But nothing came. Shifting uncomfortably, Harry lay back and gazed unseeingly at the sky.

"Harry," Lupin seemed reluctant to speak. It was apparent he had not found their quiet at all disconcerting, quite the opposite of Harry's sentiment. "I – you should be getting back inside. Molly has breakfast ready and I'm sure your friends want to see that you're all right."

Lupin stood abruptly and walked calmly away. Watching the werewolf's retreating form, Harry noticed that Lupin's threadbare robes hung looser on his frame than at the end of the year. Shaking his head, Harry followed his former professor back to the kitchen, accepting a heaping plate from Mrs. Weasley and gratefully refilling his tea cup.

It wasn't until the next day that Harry remembered the flash of pain in his scar, so brief he thought he imagined it.

They had spent the day in the enormous library, under Mrs. Weasley's order, making plans for everything they wanted to change about Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It had started as a list of things they should clean again, but had quickly morphed into rolls of parchment covered with complex drawings, scratched designs, and scrawled ideas. Excited suggestion kept branching off into more, a never-ending tree.

"Do you really think your mother will let you paint the kitchen lime green? Ron, think for a moment!"

"This coming from the girl who wants to sort this enormous library into main categories, subsections, alphabetize those groups, take inventory of the place, and then make a library index?" Ron shot back at Hermione. Harry rubbed his forehead in frustration. They had been going at it like this for nearly an hour.

"Ginny, you think a nice, light brown for the kitchen?" Harry asked the smiling redhead in an overly loud, voice.

"I think that would be brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed, also louder than necessary. Harry flushed slightly when she tossed him a wink, leaning over to grab the kitchen plans from Ron's part of the table. "Maybe we should to light brown and cocoa stripes? Vertical?"

"Perfect." Harry sent her a silent thank-you as the other two occupants of the room broke off their argument to help with the choosing of paint colors. Hermione had found a large book filled with samples of paint colors among the stacks around them. They had decided to hand-paint everything (one could never predict what Grimmauld Place was hiding) but were using the book to help them choose. There was also a page in the middle where they could try different ideas of how colors and patterns looked.

They had just finished their outline for the kitchen when the door to the small library opened and Lupin entered. He smiled tiredly at them all. "What are you miscreants up to?"

"You're one to talk, Lupin," Ron teased. Harry blinked. When had Ron stopped referring to Lupin as Professor?

"Molly wanted me to check on you. I'm on baby-sitting duty for the rest of the summer," Lupin explained, sitting next to Ginny on one of the moth-eaten couches.

"You've been on baby-sitting duty nearly all summer," Ginny muttered, so quietly that Harry was sure only he and Lupin had heard.

"What are you up to?" Lupin was peering curiously at the stacks of books, bits of parchment, and candy wrappers strewn over their workstation. "Molly said you were making a list of chores. This doesn't look like a list of chores."

"It's not," Hermione said brightly, as though Lupin hadn't been sarcastic. Harry wondered, for a moment, if she had actually missed it, bur decided for his own mental safety, he would keep from analyzing Hermione's mind.

Ron expanded on Hermione's rather palpable statement. "It started as one, but, well, this happened. They're plans for redoing all the rooms. We've only the unoccupied bedrooms left."

"And the War Room."

"And the War Room," Ron amended his sister. "But we figured that we weren't going to get our hands on it." Lupin was shifting through their papers, rather fascinated. But Harry was more interested in their conversation than with the reasoning behind Lupin's curiosity.

"What's the War Room?" Harry interrupted impatiently. He hated being out of the loop. Hermione must have identified the expression on his face.

"It's where the Order has been meeting, making defensive plans for the war."

"And just how, Miss Granger, do you lot know that we're making defensive plans?" Lupin's eyebrow was quirked interestedly at Hermione. Harry looked between the two, not quite understanding. They'd always found out things like that.

"There were a few flaws in the protection spells," Hermione muttered, flushing as though she were a Weasley.

"Are their names Fred and George?" Lupin inquired. Hermione, Harry decided, had absolutely no poker face. He would most definitely have to play cards with her. "Thought so. Don't worry. I've never wanted you all left out of what's going on, I remember what it was like to be your age, but I wish we didn't have to bring you into this war."

"None of us should be in it," Harry spoke softly.

"Well, we are." The accepted resignation and truth in Ron's words made Harry see, for the second time since returning, that Ron was growing up after all. A part of Harry yearned for the boy who was his care-free, spirited best friend. He felt slightly guilty at that, knowing Ron had to mature sometime. The war meant it would far too soon. But Ron was the relaxed member of the trio. He had always thought later, acted first.

"Yes, we are," Lupin agreed. Harry saw in his eyes the knowledge of what was to come, the consequences of war he had already faced. There was pain and regret, he knew. But there was hope. And for that, Harry found faith. The emotion was gone in an instant. A smile spread across his face, though Harry could not help but notice that it was barely in his eyes. "These ideas are brilliant. I only wish we had more time to complete them."

"We have a very long time," Hermione said, smiling in a very un-Hermione-like way. While Harry looked at Ron in confusion, Lupin seemed to understand what their friend was getting at because the two shared a sardonic smile.

"Of course, Miss Granger, you're right as always."

"Well, it's bloody nice that she's right," Ron burst. "Now, would you mind telling us what the hell you're on about? We leave for school soon. How is it that we have all this time?"

"You'll be back," Remus said, voice bittersweet. And Harry understood. Grimmauld Place would be their cage, he realized with a twisting stomach, as it had been Sirius's. The Weasleys were no longer safe at the Burrow and aside from Hogwarts and the Dursleys, Harry knew he would reside nowhere else. Would it eat away at them too? Would the dank rooms and dark hallways slowly drive them to their deaths? Their Christmases would be held in the foreboding house, tainted with horrible memories and the bitter pains of war that clung to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry wasn't sure, by looking at Ron, if he understood what they meant. But he got the gist of it, as Ron's posture became resigned. He glanced fleetingly at Ginny, registering her closed eyes and depressive air.

"Look at us, moping about," Lupin said, his voice devoid of anything save sordid amusement. "Let's get cracking. I'll go run this past your mother. You four try and think of a way to get Mrs. Black off of the wall."

"Fat chance," Ron muttered darkly. "We'd have to bust down the whole wall." Harry snorted in agreement and an odd gurgling noise resounded from Ginny. Lupin, too, looked amused. Hermione, however, gave a little squeak.

"That it!" she breathed, eyes bright. Harry registered immediately she had an idea. "Ron, you're a genius!" Hermione was up and shifting through books within seconds. Ron was acting pleased, though he clearly had no idea what Hermione was so excited about.

"Hermione, you aren't seriously saying we should demolish the wall," Ginny said, disbelieving.

"That's **exactly** what I'm saying." Hermione presented a book, the pages opened to a spell for taking out a wall with minimal mess. "Muggles do it all the time. When they remodel their homes, they'll just take out a wall if they want to make a room larger. Or they'll add a wall. We've been thinking about this entirely the wrong way. We kept trying to find a spell to undo Mrs. Black's magic. The answer was right there all along. The _portrait_ is attached to the _wall_. The wall is not infallible, the portrait's binding to cannot be destroyed by magic. So we should take out the whole bloody thing." Hermione finally paused for air, her whole body radiating energy, crackling with the fire of passion. It took Harry a moment to register that she had cursed.

"That' brilliant," Lupin muttered. "The old hag is finally coming down!" He let out an uncharacteristic whoop and let the room in what Harry could only call a bound.

The four teenagers exchanged a glance. "Right then," Ron said, summing up their feelings on the matter. Ginny snorted before collapsing in giggles, Hermione following soon after. Ron and Harry chuckled at the pair while rolling their eyes.

Lupin returned ten minutes later. "Molly agrees whole-heartedly to the destruction of Mrs. Black. So everyone grab a sledge hammer." Hermione's eyes went wide.

"Professor Lupin, you can't be serious! You can just use this spell-"

"And find out that the woman put some hidden charms on the wall? No thanks. That's the same reason you four intended to paint everything by hand, is it not?" Lupin raised an eyebrow at them in scrutiny.

"He's right," Ginny said, hopping up. "Besides," she added, eyes flicking to Harry, "There's nothing to relieve anger and stress like hitting walls down with heavy objects."

Harry smiled slightly, feeling a bit better than he had before. _Besides, _Harry reasoned, _Sirius would have liked this idea. Might as well do it for him._ And so Harry stood up and took the heavy mallet Lupin offered him, eyes glinting with something akin to malice.

* * *

**Chapter Five : **

_Ginny's Letter_

**A/N Sorry about the wait. I've been trying to make an outline for the plot. I've come up with a few ideas. Hope this isn't too short! Happy Mother's Day. I'd write more on this chapter, but I have to go help my idiotic sister make fruit salad because we're leaving in about fifteen minutes and she hasn't even started….**


	5. Ginny's Letter

_**Harry Potter and the Library of Templar

* * *

**_

**Chapter Five : **

_Ginny's Letter_

Harry woke with a strangled scream, his sheets sweaty and tangled around his legs. He leaned over the side of his bed as vomit spilled from his mouth. He heard shuffling, and soon there was a candle glowing, and Ron was at his side, patting his back as he retched. There were hurried footsteps above them, then in the hallway. By the time the door opened, Harry was still heaving, though no bile rose.

"Harry?" Hermione was suddenly on his left, her hand gently rubbing his back, Ron's patting soothingly. His heaves turned to an odd, desperate pant, to a hard cough.

"Ron, Hermione, move." Harry tried to protest when he felt his friends' weight leave the bed but found he couldn't do anything but cough. Mr. Weasley must have been there as well as Mrs. Weasley, because it was his voice that muttered the cleaning spell to dispel Harry's vomit. "Harry, take a drink." Mrs. Weasley was pressing a cup to his lips. Harry was hardly able to swallow through his coughing. But as soon as the liquid slipped down his throat, Harry felt his throat relax and his coughs stop.

His mouth felt slimy and tasted disgusting. But Harry couldn't say anything as he shivered and twisted his hands in his sheets.

"Molly, I've gotten him some water," Lupin's voice came. Harry slowly turned, urging his convulsion to cease. Ron and Hermione stood just next to the bed, eyes anxious. Mr. Weasley was crouched on the floor in front of him and Mrs. Weasley was seated on his right. Bill stood at the door, his eyes slightly wide with shock, Ginny next to him, worrying her lip. Remus had made his way to the bed and handed Harry the water.

Grateful, Harry gulped it down quickly. "Thanks," he croaked. His body stopped shaking, and he reached with unsteady hands for his glasses. Ron pressed them into his hand and Harry gave him a grateful smile. "Sorry," he muttered to the room.

"What happened?" asked Bill.

"William Arthur Weasley, that is hardly appropriate to-" Harry cut Mrs. Weasley off.

"Voldemort." Lupin drew a shaky breath, eyes shutting in what appeared to be relief. For what, Harry could not imagine and frankly he did not care. "He's torturing muggles. Somewhere in… in…." But Harry could not remember. He fisted his hand in his hair. "I can't remember." He tried to regain control, to prevent himself from crying of desperation.

"Shhh," soothed Mrs. Weasley. "It's alright. It's going to be fine. You don't need to remember, it's too late." Harry nodded, though he didn't believe her words. If only he could remember. Voldemort was somewhere in the country. He couldn't be more than two hundred miles away.

"What time is it?" His voice was still scratchy.

"Three," Hermione said softly but promptly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry mumbled. Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth, but Ron laid a hand on her arm.

"Why don't we all go back to bed," Lupin suggested. "I'll bring you some hot chocolate to get rid the taste in your mouth as well as some of Severus's Dreamless Sleep."

"Don't. The potion doesn't work on me. They aren't nightmares." _Well, some aren't, _Harry thought to himself.

"Hot chocolate then." Lupin pulled Ginny and Bill out of the room with him, the Weasley parents following.

"Harry, you're not fine," Hermione spat, as soon as the door closed. "You haven't been fine since Voldemort's rebirth. And you've been even stranger since Sirius. It's not grief. You know something that you aren't telling us. And then you disappeared and now that you show up you're all ho-hum and act as if you want to make everything right! It's not normal! Ronald, don't you give me that look, you want to know just as much as I do!" Hermione turned her fiery glare back on Harry.

He stood and walked uneasily to the empty frame on the wall and waited.

"He wants to know if you're all right." Phinneaus Nigellius appeared suddenly in the frame, looking perpetually bored.

"Tell him all I saw were muggles being tortured," Harry said bitterly. The Slytherin glared at him before vanishing suddenly. "It's not safe to tell you here. I promise to tell you at school. Dumbledore is everywhere and I'm not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing where I was."

"So you do know!" Hermione cried.

"Know what?" Lupin stood at the door. Hermione jumped about a foot in the air.

"What the twins did to her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_." Harry was impressed with Ron's unfaltering lie.

"Mmmm." Lupin handed Harry a mug filled with a warm, brown liquid. It was clear he didn't buy Ron's story. "Did you know werewolves can smell feelings close to the full moon? We always can really, but it's especially heightened near the full moon and the ability enhances as a werewolf ages."

He said nothing more and just left, leaving three confused teenagers behind him.

"I should get to bed," Hermione said regretfully. "Goodnight, boys."

"'Night Hermione," they said in unison. As soon as she left, Harry took a great gulp from the mug to wash the bitter taste from his mouth. Then he handed it to Ron, who drank the rest without comment.

They settled into their beds and Ron doused the candle. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Sweet dreams." Harry snorted.

"Same to you." Harry heard Ron turn over. Soon a light snoring filled the air and Harry stared blankly at the ceiling. He stayed that way for another hour before giving up on sleep and walking quietly to his trunk.

He opened the new lock from Dean and Seamus, which was keyed to his breath. Digging around, he located his hidden dagger in the lining. He leaned against the trunk and stared at the blade, gently running his fingers over the sharp edges. He pricked the tip of his thumb and drew a sharp breath as a drop of red spilled forth. Shaking his head he tossed the blade in the air and caught it easily before putting it back.

He looked around the room as he got dressed in his Elvish clothes and stretched. His fingers brushed the fabric of his training pants as he clutched his bare foot, leg muscles extending. Ron grunted in his sleep and Harry closed his eyes.

His real life was rushing back to him.

* * *

Three and a half hours later, Harry sat at the kitchen table in jeans and sleeveless top. The heat in the house was sweltering. Hermione sat next to him in a pair of shorts that Harry considered _very_ short and a too-large blue shirt that said Jonathan across the back. Ginny was by the stove, reading aloud her mother's note (to which Harry wasn't listening), dressed in cut-off jeans and a shirt that bared a centimeter of her midriff. 

"Where's Mum?" Ron stood in the doorway with disheveled hair and bleary eyes. Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron's appearance.

"She's on an errand for the Order all day. We're on our own, since Remus and Bill are working."

"Lupin's working?" Harry asked, surprised. Ginny glared at him.

"Of course he is," she snapped. "At a muggle diner in London. Just because wizards won't accept him-"

"Harry didn't mean it like that," Ron said irritably. He plopped across from Harry. "Ginny's been in a twist since she found out Lupin didn't get this job at a wizarding library in Edinburgh."

"They have no right to do that! Remus didn't ask to be a werewolf!"

"She remind you of Hermione on spew?" Ron muttered. "Or is it just me?" Harry stifled his laugh. Hermione looked scandalized.

"Ron, werewolf rights are just as important a cause as house elf rights! Ginny's right to be so upset."

"Bugger, they're annoying," Ron declared. Ginny slugged him from behind as she set a plate of bacon and sausage on the table. She proceeded to bring over eggs, waffles, and grape juice.

"Mum left us breakfast, but we're on our own for lunch and dinner."

"Which means we'll leave you ladies the kitchen," Ron said, piling his plate with food. Harry winced as soon as Ron said it. Hermione's eyes flashed.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! That is the most chauvinistic thing I have ever heard! Just because Ginny and I are women does not mean we should be forced to cook for you and Harry! I'll have you know that my father does the most of the cooking in my house. Just because he's a man does not mean he isn't a better cook than my mother!"

Ron held his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean to offend you! I just know that Ginny can cook and I can't. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

Hermione opened her mouth, ready with a fiery retort. "Knock it off, you two. Ginny and I will make lunch and dinner if it'll shut the two of you up." Ginny raised her eyebrow at Harry. "If you want to," he added hastily. She shrugged and ate some more of her eggs. Ron and Hermione glared at each other but didn't protest.

Harry shook his head as he bit into a crispy slice of bacon. Ron reached for the plate, pulling back and swearing as his long sleeve dipped in the bacon grease. He grabbed a napkin and tried to wipe it out and only succeeded in spreading it.

"Just go put on a different shirt," Ginny said lazily. She tipped her head back and threw a grape in the air, catching it in her mouth. "That ones almost too short for you." That was true, Harry noted. The sleeves bared two inches of arm.

"Just cut the sleeves off. It's too hot to wear a shirt like that anyways," Harry said.

"I'll go change." Ron was out of the room in the blink of an eye. Harry shook his head. Something was up with Ron. Harry turned to the girls. Hermione appeared just as baffled as him. Ginny hadn't seemed to notice and was still eating grapes. Harry noticed a letter on the table in front of her in a script he didn't recognize. Trying to be casual, he leaned over and grabbed the sausage from next to Ginny, glancing at the letter as he did so. But all it said was _Miss Ginny Weasley_. There were no spots where it looked that talons had grabbed it and Harry figured it must have been hand delivered.

"So, what're we going to do today?" Harry asked.

"Mrs. Weasley sent someone to the Burrow last night and they brought back green and cream paint from the shed. We've got brushes from Tonks so we're all set to start the library," Hermione said, eyes shining with excitement.

"Hermione, you realize this means we've also got to box up all the books in there, right? That'll take us nearly all day. Not to mention we need to tape up all the shelves so we don't get paint on them," Harry said.

"Actually, there's a spell you can perform on a rag that will wipe paint off of wherever you don't want it. It was originally invented for wizards who bought muggle homes where muggles had gotten paint on a fan or the carpet. Bill made us all one before he left. I'll go get them and meet you two in the library." Hermione hurried from the room.

"Should we tell her she forgot to eat?"

"Nah, she'll figure it out," Harry said. Ginny grinned at him. An awkward silence followed. As much as Harry had come to know her, he was uncomfortable around Ginny, still remembering her crush on him and even more so her odd ability to make him feel like shit when it came to Ron and Hermione and (unfortunately, he admitted) his ego.

Just as Harry was about to say something, what he had no idea, to end the uncomfortable silence, Ron entered and sat down, dressed in shorts and a long-sleeve white cotton shirt. "Pass the eggs, will you? Harry, did you hear that the Tornadoes got crushed in their last match? It was wicked."

"Seamus was quite pleased as well," Ginny said.

"How would you know?" Ron asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"You know that Dean and Seamus are best friends," Ginny said condescendingly. Ron narrowed his eyes.

"Still seeing that git?"

"Ron, you know as well as I do that Dean is a nice guy. What is your problem?" Ginny, Harry noted, looked ready for a fight.

"He's not so nice as you think!" Ron yelled. Ginny laughed in frustration.

"You never had one bad thing to say about him until you found out I was interested in him!"

"I didn't know he was a going to put the moves on you!" Harry waited to see Ginny's reaction with what he knew was a bit of sick amusement.

"Dean did not put the moves on me! I owled _him_. And we aren't even dating. We're friends, for Merlin's sake! I'm sorry if you can't grasp that with your miniscule intellect!" Ginny's voice rang in the air, leaving a tense silence in their wake. Ron and Ginny were glaring at each other.

Suddenly a muffled noise drifted into the kitchen. The two turned from each other to look out the door. "What the bloody hell is that?"

"Dunno," Harry said, pushing back form the table. "I'll go see, I'm done eating."

"Me too," Ginny said acidly. She cast one last glare at Ron before storming out of the room. Harry quickly placed his dishes in the sink and followed her out.

"It's coming form the basement." Harry jumped and turned to see Ginny partway up the steps. "I'm going to get Hermione. Don't go down there by yourself and make sure to grab your wand."

"I'm not an idiot, Ginny. I have my wand. There are a good number of people who want me dead," Harry snapped. He refrained, however, from mentioning the dagger concealed beneath his clothing and the small knife in his pocket.

Ginny said nothing, just turned and walked up the stairs. She returned a few minutes later with Hermione. Ron joined them as well as they slowly opened the door to the basement. Immediately they could identify the voice of Mrs. Black. Harry began muttering under his breath as he stormed down the stairs, pocketing his wand. A fury greater than he had ever felt was pulsing through him.

"**Shut your mouth, you fucking hag**," Harry seethed. He was sick of her wailing. Her son was _dead_ and she didn't even bother to pretend to be sorry. "**You're pretty damn lucky we can't burn you, you miserable excuse for a witch! You've been screaming every time someone so much as talks, ever since we came here. You don't have any family left and you spend your time yelling about things you can't do a bloody thing about! You're a fucking portrait for Merlin's sake! How in hell do you expect to do anything about what goes on in this excuse for a house? WHAT THE HELL CAN YOU DO? YOU CAN'T CAHNGE ANYTHING!**"

Harry felt the rage drain from him as the witch fell silent. He dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he stared at Sirius's mother. Guilt flooded him as he watched her. He had killed Sirius. He had avoided it for so long. There had been the prophecy and then the Dursleys. And suddenly he was training to be an Elvin warrior. He had managed to find something to distract himself with ever since the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Now, there was nothing. He felt as though he were going to throw up his barely digested breakfast.

The irony hit him a moment later and he began to laugh in hysterics. It had taken one confrontation with a painting of Sirius's mum, who had hated her son for everything he was, to make him think about the one thing he was so desperately avoiding.

Harry had no idea how long he sat there, laughing in the basement of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place in front of Mrs. Black's portrait, surrounded by boxes full of dark artifacts. When he finally stopped, he realized that he was back. The Boy Who Lived had just returned, and Haru the Human was gone for good. No more playing pretend.

He stood grimly and wrapped a tarp around Mrs. Black, stepping on her for good measure. He walked past his bewildered and worried friends without a word.

It wasn't until they were sitting down for lunch that Harry realized his scar had been twitching the entire time.

* * *

Harry groaned as Hermione presented him with another stack of books. Ron snickered from his spot on the floor as he worked on cleaning copying down the titles of the tomes Hermione and Ginny removed from the shelves. Harry made a face at him before carrying the heavy books into the hallway to set beside the others. The entire corridor was lined with them, stacks reaching up to thirty books. 

When he reentered the library, he found Ron and Ginny yelling at each other again. "You could help carry books Ron!"

"So could you!"

"Enough!" They bother turned to Harry at his outburst. Ron looked slightly remorse at the sight of his friend's agitation and anger. Ginny, however, Harry thought looked quite angry herself.

"Stay out of this Harry! Ron's being a prat. He needs to apologize bout Dean!" Ginny snapped, glaring heatedly at Harry.

"Dean isn't a stack of books, Ginny," Harry ground out. "The two of you are bloody annoying. If you're going to fight about Dean, fight about Dean! There's no need to bicker about this work. I'm pretty damn sick of your ridiculous fight."

"You have been fighting about the most preposterous things," Hermione muttered. Harry let out a derisive laugh.

"Hermione, you and Ron have rows about Ron's hair, for Merlin's sake. You can't say anything about this," Harry chided. Hermione huffed at him and stood.

"And you aren't one to chastise for anger, now are you?"

"Oh, yes, because you have Voldemort flitting about in your head and you saw Cedric die!" Silence hung in the air at Harry's words. Hermione's impassioned glare changed to worry in a split second. Harry sighed and sat down heavily on the floor. He still didn't talk about Cedric. He had nightmares, but he had nightmares about everything. He took a calming breath. His temper had been on a short leash since last night. It felt like last year all over again. _Only there's no Sirius._ Harry felt a tell-tale prickling behind his eyes and swallowed in frustration. "Sorry. I'm trying. But it's not easy."

"Harry, you just lost the man closest to being a parent for you," Hermione said gently. Harry glared at her.

"Trust me, Hermione, I know that. I realize that Sirius is-" But Harry didn't finish, couldn't finish. He just looked at his trainers and tried very hard to become invisible.

"Ron, I like Dean, get used to it," Ginny sharp tone cut the heavy silence in the room. Harry was decidedly tired of awkward silences.

"Now isn't the ti-"

"You are avoiding the issue! You just don't like the fact that I'm dating anyone. Did you ever consider seeing the glass half-full, you twit. Be glad it's Dean and not Malfoy. Understood?" Ron gaped at Ginny.

"MALFOY! That smarmy git! I'll wring his neck. Putting moves on my sister," Ron muttered darkly to himself. He turned to Harry, continuing in his rant.

"Ron, grab that stack and Harry there's one by Ginny for you," Hermione ordered, cleanly breaking off his tirade. "And Ron, apologize to Ginny for being a prick about Dean."

"I am not being a prick! Dean is a hormonally charged animal and not be trusted with my little sister's virtue!"

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you!"

"What's that mean?"

"Like Lavender didn't talk on and on about how she caught Seamus with some dirty mags that Dean brought!"

"When did I turn into Seamus?" asked Ron, quite seriously confused. Hermione huffed and turned around to ignore him. Ron continued to gape at her for a good ten minutes.

Harry rolled his eyes once again as the afternoon slipped back into its previous pace. They spent the next two hours cleaning out the library until there were books all the way down to the kitchen and all the way up to the attic. Harry had been demoted to un-shelving books when an old leather-bound beast of one had bitten his leg, which was now wrapped in gauze with Ginny's remarkable proficiency. "Brothers. Had to clean them up all the time when they didn't want Mum knowing they were trying to shag girls in the bristles during the summer or playing revolution with Grandad's old weapons collection." At which Ron had quickly exited the room and Hermione had broken out into giggles while Harry sat with a straight face for fear of messing Ginny up.

"Should we do an early dinner?" asked Ginny. They were sitting in the hall among the piles of books, each listlessly flipping through one as they took a break. Harry grabbed Ron's wrist and looked at the watch (Harry still needed to buy a new one) to see it was just barely four.

"Sounds good," Harry said, hopping up, eager to get away from the books. "You two find something productive to do while Ginny and I cook." Harry proceeded to drag the youngest Weasley down the stairs to the kitchen where they spent a comfortably silent half hour preparing honey breaded chicken, mashed potatoes, and pudding.

"How you're so horrid at potions is really astounding," Ginny said as she dipped her finger into their chocolate pudding.

"You're so kind," said Harry. "Get your fingers out of there. That's absolutely disgusting." As soon as Ginny removed her hand, Harry stuck his own finger in for a taste. He received a rather harsh punch on the shoulder for that.

"I just meant that you seem to be a good cook," Ginny informed him. Harry blinked. What on earth did cooking and potions have to do with each other? He shook his head, grabbing the pudding bowl and setting it in the fridge.

"But what's that got to do with Snape and his dungeons?"

"Really, Harry. Potions is just like cooking! You are as thick as Ron sometimes," Ginny muttered, walking briskly from the room to fetch, Harry assumed, Ron and Hermione and leaving him to ponder her statement. He realized now, of course, that she was right. But he'd cooked for his entire life. It was simple and mundane and he did it at the Dursleys. Potions had always seemed different, because he did it at Hogwarts. His pondering was stopped short when the others entered the room and they sat down to eat.

After they ate (a meal Ron found to be okay, if not up to Mrs. Weasley's standards) they began painting. Ginny left for a few moments to come back with what she explained to Harry as a music box and a gift from her uncle. Harry was fascinated with the illusion of the Weird Sisters that appeared playing on top of it when Ginny selected one of their songs. The four spent the rest of the day in the hot library, painting wall after wall and watching Ginny bop around to her music. It was well past dinnertime when they heard someone downstairs. Ginny closed the sleek wooden box and they all paraded downstairs, some with paint dripped on various pieces of clothing or spots of bare skin.

"Hello," Hermione called.

"Howdy." They jumped and spun around to find a pretty young witch standing behind them. She was wearing loose, pale lemon robes and her hair was a rich chocolate. "Sorry, did'n mean to give you a frigh'."

"Who are you?" Harry didn't mean to be paranoid, he swore he didn't, but his hand was ready to flick his dagger into his hand. He realized belatedly that he should have been ready to grab his wand, as he was facing a fully grown wizard with a wand in hand a good distance away and not an elf that relied on physical means of fighting. It also occurred to him that they were in Headquarters and only the Order members knew where that was. But then, he saw Ron already had his wand out and Hermione's was clenched in her robes.

"I'm Cadenza McDowell, jus' here for an Order meetin', is all. No need to attack, Mister Weasley. I come in peace." McDowell raised her hands in surrender. Ron didn't put his wand away.

"I've never seen you here before," Ron said, eyes narrowed. "And we've been here for a very long time."

"Tonight's my firs' meetin'. Moody'll be here in a sec, you can ask him for yourself," McDowell said. She slipped her wand back into her robes and inspected the group before her. "You mus' be the kids Hestia's always on about."

"Hestia Jones?" asked Hermione. Her arm relaxed slightly, but she didn't take her hand out of her pocket or away from her wand.

"Yep, her cousin married my cousin a few years back, when I was over in the states. I moved there right after graduation. Easier to get Dragon Permits around the Georgia and Alabama areas than it is anywhere in the UK. Unfortunately a bit of their southern twang latched on to me. I'm back for a few weeks for the Order, to give y'all a hand back in Alabama. International relations and all that." The teenagers still regarded her with a critical eye. McDowell fidgeted under their scrutiny and Harry was satisfied to see her glance around in discomfort.

"McDowell!" The harsh bark of Mad-Eye Moody caused the entire group to jump. McDowell herself looked petrified and her hand was twitching somewhat unnaturally, in Harry's opinion.

"Mad-Eye! You nearly killed me! Don't go around doin' things like that!" The aged Auror seemed unconcerned.

"You're supposed to be here for a meeting, not to socialize with a group of teenage kids!" McDowell rolled her eyes.

"Pull the wand out of your ass, Moody," she snapped. "And I am fully expecting an apology from you. Pleasure meetin' you kids." McDowell stormed off, Moody following, his magical eye rolling back on them. Harry unconsciously gripped the wand in his pocket a little tighter. He didn't like Moody's magical eye on him. Not one bit. Harry shuddered and followed the rest back up to the library.

"She's… unique," Hermione stated after ten minutes of silent painting.

Ron snorted. "Unique is one way to put it."

"Ron!"

"What? You were all thinking it! From what Charlie's told me, only show dragon breeders live in the states. It's a big thing over there."

"Did you guys see the way her hand went ballistic when Moody crept up?" Ginny asked, clearly trying to stop an argument from ruining their conversation.

"Yeah," Harry said distractedly. "It's the same thing that happened to Nix's leg-" Harry broke off, realizing about ten seconds too late what he had said.

"Nick?" Hermione looked way too interested. "Who's he?"

Harry tried his best to hide his nerves, blinking as though he'd just realized a hilarious oversight. "Nick Spinner. I went to school with him, before Hogwarts." He just hoped Hermione didn't see his hand shaking or notice the sweat on his neck. She must not have, as she just nodded, looking curious.

"What was wrong with his leg?" she prompted. Harry calmed immensely as she seemed to accept his answer. Now was not the time, they were still under Dumbledore's watch, he could tell.

"Muggle disease," Harry said. "I don't remember what it was, some really big name. We can see if McDowell's muggle-born. Maybe she has something like that?" Hermione immediately got her look that promised Harry and Ron would be spending hours in the library with her. "We should wait till we get back to school to do the research, Hermione. We won't find any muggle books in here and we can't just run down to the library with Voldemort trying to kill me and Dumbledore trying to coddle me."

"You're right." Hermione didn't even try to mask the disappointment in her voice.

It was hours later, when Ron, Hermione, and Harry finally decided to go to bed, sick of waiting for the Order meeting to end so they could pry into the subject of McDowell. Ginny had left half an hour before. Harry had just been about to use the lavatory and get into his pajamas, fifteen minutes later, when he realized that he'd left his wand in the library. Telling Ron he'd be back in a minute and he shouldn't bother waiting up (Ron looked half-dead), Harry dashed back to the library. His wand sat on a stack of books just outside the door. Sighing in relief, Harry picked it up and turned to leave. He paused, hearing familiar voices below.

"Do you think they're up?" That was Mrs. Weasley. Harry knew he should go, but he didn't really care at the moment.

"Of course not Molly. They've given up on trying to get Order information out of us," Mr. Weasley assured his wife. "They have no other reason to be up."

"Do you think we should tell them?" What? Tell them what? Harry didn't like this.

"They'll just think it's their fault. Albus told us not to worry, that he'd be able to fix it soon. Remus feels bad enough. The last thing we need is those kids blaming themselves as well. We had no idea. They're off to school soon anyhow, no need to stir things up." No, Harry did not like this one bit. "Honey, you go to bed and I'll go do a quick patrol of the halls, make sure their lights are off. Okay?" Mrs. Weasley agreed and Harry set off, quite glad for his new stealth skills.

"Harry!" He jumped, spinning to glare at Ginny, whose head was poked out of her door.

"Gin? What-" She tugged him into her room and shut the door. Groaning, Harry put out the lights immediately.

"What the bloody h-"

"Shut it!" Harry hissed. Not able to see Ginny's face, Harry was pretty certain she was glaring at him, but had decided to listen to him. Sucking in a breath, Harry listened carefully as he heard Mr. Weasley's footsteps approach and slow at the door. He released it when the steps faded away.

"Who was that?" asked Ginny. Harry felt her grip his arm and pull him across the dark room, pushing him onto something soft. He heard her settle next to him on what he assumed was her bed.

"Your dad. What're you doing?" Ginny was rustling around for something in the table beside her bed. There was no answer, but the next second a soft glow surrounded the bed, just barely illuminating past where the two sat. Harry glanced around, squinting. Hermione's form was clear in the next bed. "Aren't we going to wake her?" Ginny waved him off.

"Hermione sleeps like a brick for the first two hours," she said. "Look, I need to talk to you about something."

"What?" Harry didn't like where this was going. And he had been having a good afternoon.

"I got a letter today. I saw you trying to peek at breakfast. And later when I was thinking about it, I knew you'd be the person to talk to."

"What is it?" The dread in Harry's stomach was increasing.

"McGonagall asked me to be quidditch captain," Ginny said very quickly, eyes frightened and face tense. Harry blinked.

"That's _all_? You had me worried. Geez, Ginny. That's great!"

"Harry! Do you know how wrong this is? I've hardly been on the team one year! You've been on it forever and Katie's the seventh year!"

"So? I wouldn't want to be captain. Most seekers are rubbish as captain. We aren't involved in the central game enough. Besides, I suck at strategies. Have you ever seen Ron and I play chess?" Harry wanted to laugh but he knew Ginny wouldn't appreciate very much. She seemed genuinely upset. "And Katie always said she couldn't be captain."

"McGonagall offered it to her," Ginny said softly, looking at a particularly warn spot on her comforter. Harry noted vaguely that it was green and purple. "She recommended me."

"See, Katie thinks you can do it, and I think you can do it," Harry said, as though it were all settled. True, he was a bit put out that he hadn't been asked. He certainly would have refused, but still. It was the principle of the matter. Then again, McGonagall probably knew he'd turn it down and he had been missing nearly all summer. Harry easily squashed his jealousy with his reasoning.

"But Ron…." And suddenly Harry understood. Ginny didn't care about him or Katie. She knew they'd get over it. And she didn't doubt her own ability. It was her brother. Ron would be furious his sister got named captain, especially over him. Because technically she wasn't on the team since Harry's ban had been lifted, and she'd played in less matches than anyone else (save the replacement beaters). Harry knew Ron was going to be a jerk about this, he just knew it. And Ginny did too. Harry wasn't sure what to say.

"Ron… he'll get over it, eventually," Harry offered weakly. Ginny smiled thinly at him.

"Maybe by the time I graduate," Ginny said waveringly. She shut her eeys tightly and took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. Harry just hoped she wouldn't cry. He hated it when girls cried. "I could just tell McGonagall to give it to him. He's always wanted to be captain."

"If McGonagall and Katie thought he should be captain than he would be," Harry said.

"Ron's a good strategist," Ginny insisted.

"Ginny, you realize you're being extremely irritating, don't you?" Harry muttered, rubbing his face in irritation. "I know Ron the same as you, and we both know he's going to be mad. But you're his sister; he'll have to patch it up with you sometime."

Ginny snorted. "Not bloody likely. He's never going to forgive Percy."

Harry chose not to comment, only picked at the duvet. There was a sharp rap on the door, causing Harry to jump, eyes wide. Ginny looked panicked as well. On instinct, Harry rolled off and landed soundlessly on the floor, easily sliding under Ginny's bed, just as Mr. Weasley's voice drifted through the door. "Ginny?"

"Come in," she called. Harry saw her feet drop down in front of his head and he tried to shrink in on himself as much as possible. The door opened and another set of feet came in to view.

"Were you talking to someone?" he asked, perplexed. Harry wished he could see Ginny's face. Ron was a horrible liar. Harry hoped Ginny took after the twins.

"There's no one in here but Hermione, Daddy." Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ginny sounded so sweet. It was rather revolting coming from the hot-tempered, outspoken girl.

"Goodnight, Gin-Gin." Mr. Weasley's feet moved next to Ginny's. Harry assumed he was giving her a kiss on the cheek, like Aunt Petunia used to give Dudley.

"Night, Dad." Harry held his breath until the door closed after Mr. Weasley. He was waiting a few moments to be sure, as Ginny climbed back onto her bed. He jerked up and smacked his head painfully on the bed when Ginny suddenly flipped her head over the side to see him. He uttered a few choice words that made Ginny grin.

"You should accept the position. Now I'm gong to bed before somebody comes in and sees me." Harry slithered out form under the bed and pointedly ignored the snickering girl on the bed as he left. When Harry entered his room, Ron was asleep. Harry followed suit and was soon lying in bed. Sleep came easily and that night, he dreamt of Hermione and Susan playing as beaters on the Gryffindor team, with a big ball of flame ordering them around.

* * *

Harry barely noticed his friends enter the kitchen the next morning as he sat mashing his porridge. His dreams had quickly turned to Sirius the night before, which resulted in his waking up with a scream just barely held in. He knew that there were circles under his eyes and he knew that they were worried about him. But quite frankly he couldn't manage to care. For just a few days, he had been able to pretend it hadn't happened. And now, the second time around, it hurt just as much that Sirius was dead. Harry wished he could have just gone on like Sirius was alive. That he would have found a letter from his godfather among those Mrs. Weasley and Ron had collected for him all summer. But he hadn't. 

It took a moment for him to realize that Hermione was talking to him. "What?"

"I asked if you were packed," Hermione said, her voice a little brisk. Harry just nodded, going back to his porridge mashing. He heard Hermione sigh but didn't think it worth the effort to glare at her. They spent the meal in silence, Hermione obviously bursting to say something to him. As soon as Harry had forced down half of the bowl, he rinsed it out and scurried up to the library where he began painting the final wall, over by the small alcove for reading. He ignored Ron and Hermione when they came in to help.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione ordered Ron to fetch Ginny and Harry to begin carrying in the books. Ginny and Ron appeared with a large roll of parchment that Hermione spread out. The other day, she had drawn up a very large model of the library and as the books were carried out, she'd written them down under a category. When they'd begun painting, Hermione had carefully made a system and placed each book in a specific spot. Now, Hermione directed them as to where each book went. Once they'd set them all into their proper sections, Hermione gave them each a few shelves and they alphabetized each section by author's last name. By four o'clock the entire library was reassembled.

"Not too bad," Ginny said, turning around and surveying their work. "I'm going to write Dean." Ron muttered something under his breath that Harry was sure Ginny didn't want to hear. She gave him a dark look before leaving.

"Ron, you really need to get over this Dean thing," Hermione informed the redhead. "If it wasn't Dean it'd be someone else. Like _Malfoy_."

"That is not funny!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Go pack Ron," she said shrewdly, following Ginny out. Ron turned to Harry, fuming.

"Women! The bloody lot of them should just go live in a cave!" Harry sighed as Ron stormed from the room. A moment later he heard their door slam and he winced, sinking into one of the chairs. He wasn't sure how long he was there before Lupin sat next to him, but he knew it was less than twenty minutes.

"How can I help you?" Harry cracked an eye open. Lupin looked horrible. He had before, of course, but with the full moon only a few days away Harry really saw the difference. Lupin was thinner than before, but that always happened. Hi robes usually hid it, but dressed in slacks as he was, it was quite apparent.

"We need to talk." Harry noticed that Lupin was looking at the floorboards and not at him.

"What about?" Harry knew exactly where this was going. Sirius. He didn't want to talk about it. But it was only a matter of time before Dumbledore made someone counsel him. The Boy-Who-Lived couldn't have this weighing him down. How could the world move aside and make room?

"Siri-"

"I don't want to talk about him," Harry snapped. Lupin looked up and raised his eyebrows.

"I wasn't going to ask you to," he replied, his voice rather sharp. "I know quite well how you feel right now." Harry wanted to scream and yell and tell Lupin he couldn't possibly imagine it. The only problem was, he knew Lupin could.

"Oh." Harry knew he should be ashamed, since Lupin apparently wasn't going to play help-poor-baby-Potter. But he wasn't.

"It's about his will." Harry jerked.

"He was an escaped convict," Harry said. "They're letting his will go through?" Lupin blinked.

"Wizarding wills are magic based. The will the Ministry held in official records was broken when they put Sirius in Azkaban for life at the same time they froze his assets. When Mrs. Black died a few months later, she left no will. The money went to Sirius's immobile account and everything else transferred to his name because he was the closest blood relative. A few years earlier his uncle had left him nearly everything. Sirius was quite wealthy.

"The official records are a formality. A wizard's will is bound by magic. The government can't override it. When Sirius was alone, before the Triwizard Tournament, he drew up a will. Then he signed it and added his magical seal. Dumbledore and I signed it later that year when we saw him, as every will needs for it to work. Dumbledore kept in his vault at Gringotts. After… after the wizard is proclaimed dead by one of the others on the will, it takes two weeks of the wizard's magical signature to lie dormant to activate. That's one reason wills are based on magic, so there's less chance to bullocks it up. Gringotts is alerted via magic and they transfer everything without question. The Ministry doesn't even know.

"I declared Sirius – declared Sirius dead," Remus choked out, "a week before the end of your term. You vanished before it activated."

"So?"

"Sirius left you one third of the collective Black fortune and half of his estates." Harry stared.

"I don't want it."

"I understand your hesitation, Harry, really I do-"

"I already have enough money. I don't want Sirus's!"

"Harry, listen to me. If you forfeit your percentage of the will, it will go to Sirius's closest blood relative. Do you know who that is?"

"Tonks?"

"Tonks is Andromeda's daughter, who was Sirius's cousin."

"His cousin…. Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry choked, fury welling up. Lupin looked startled. He quickly assured him.

"No, she can't receive it because she voluntarily activated her will while alive. Everything went to her youngest sister." Sister. Sirius's other cousin-

"Malfoy!" Lupin nodded grimly.

"If we don't accept what Sirius gave us, it will be given to Narcissa Black Malfoy," Remus said. Harry balked. "Sirius wanted us to have it. He made sure we wouldn't refuse. He could have named Tonks his closest relative. But he named you his heir." Harry let out a sad laugh.

"Do I own Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked, the thought occurring as he spoke it.

"No," said Lupin. "Sirius left that to the Order of the Phoenix."

"What else did he leave?"

"A few miscellaneous things to old friends. One third of his fortune and a fourth of his estates to the Order," Lupin shrugged.

"And you?" Remus smiled wryly.

"I refused, as long as we were friends, to take money from him. He left me the final third of his money and the last forth of his estates." Harry nodded, still mulling over the new information. "He did leave me one other thing." Harry looked up, interested. Lupin was looking at the ground again.

"What?" Harry prompted.

"He – eh, he declared me your godfather."

Time seemed to freeze a Harry went numb. Lupin glanced furtively at him. Harry just sat there. Sirius wasn't his godfather anymore.

"I don't want to take Sirius's place," Lupin amended quickly, wringing his hands. "Merlin, I could never do that. We're too different to even try. But, I figured it wouldn't be so bad for you, to have a godfather."

Harry knew he should say something. But what? Lupin looked as if he was about to be chopped into a thousand pieces. "It's not that. I just…." Harry took a deep breath, trying to think of a way to say what he was feeling. "If things had been different, I would have grown up knowing you and Sirius my whole life. You'd probably be like my surrogate godfather anyways. I'm pretty sure that's what my parents wanted. They may have had other kids, you know, and you'd've been my brother's godfather or whatever."

Lupin looked confused, but hopeful. "Does that mean it's okay?"

"If what is?"

"If I'm your second godfather."

Harry nodded, looking at his trainers. "Yeah. But, well, what does that mean?"

"Nothing really. I tried to adopt you, a long time ago, when you were three." Harry jerked up. Lupin smiled bitterly at him. "But they passed a law to prevent werewolves from adopting."

"That's horrible." Lupin nodded his agreement.

"So I can't adopt you. It doesn't legally mean anything because of that. To me, though, it means a lot. And you can come to me, about whatever, whenever you need to. I won't tell Albus anything." Harry smiled ruefully. "I don't know why you're mad at him, Harry; no one does but the two of you. Frankly, unless it's something you want to talk about, it's not going to matter to me."

Remus didn't say anything after that and Harry found himself liking what Lupin's words implied: that Harry was more important to him than Dumbledore and his Order.

"There is-" Lupin cut himself off.

"What?"

"I could try and get the Dursleys to give up their legal responsibility of you. You'd be forced to follow out your parents' wishes, which would in turn make you my ward."

"Dumbledore wouldn't like that," Harry stated bitterly. Lupin shrugged in reply. "Besides, I'm the only protection the Dursleys have. If- if they get attacked, because of me… I just- I wouldn't be okay with turning my back on them."

"You're a bigger man than most, Harry. I know a good number of people who'd not share that sentiment, after what the Dursleys have done to you."

"It's not like they beat me regularly," Harry mumbled. Lupin smiled at him, ruffling his hair gently, with a look Harry couldn't' quite identify. Usually, Harry would have been annoyed. But he wasn't. Harry looked Lupin up and down. Maybe having him as a godfather was a good thing. It wasn't like Lup-Remus (Remus) would replace Sirius. No one could.

"I think I might like having a werewolf for a godfather," Harry said, not caring if he sounded childish. Lupin raised his brows. "You can scare all the other kids at school." Remus's hoarse laugh filled the air, making Harry himself smile. It was nice, Harry thought, to see the worn wizard like this.

"I heard you had excellent O.W.L. scores. You got into Severus's class?" Harry and Remus spent the next two hours sitting together in the freshly repainted library, talking about anything they could think of. Harry wasn't sure how long they would have sat there, if Mrs. Weasley hadn't come in and told them they'd better get to the kitchen for supper. Harry smiled at Remus as they left the kitchen an hour later, glad that the man was there for him, even if Sirius wasn't. Especially because Sirius wasn't.

That night, his drams were still plagued by Sirius, Lestrange, and the veil.

* * *

**A/N : **I intend upon continueing this post-HBP. I don't think it's fair to call it AU since it follows canon through OotP. That's why I came up with my Canon Levels. Canon 5 is canon through OotP. Canon 3 is canon through PoA, and so on and so forth. Because really, those stories are canon, just not full canon. They deserve to be seen as part-canon. So yeah. And I'm not changing the story to accomodate HBP. That would be really stupid. I aso have the entire schooling system figured out for my story. It will most definitely be different from HBP in that respect, so be prepared. I spent a lot of time on this story already, I'm going to keep it the same. I will probably incorrporate some HBP stuff into it. Such as the Half-Blood Prince himself. Oh, and this si like a peron's life. Harry will have more than one girlfriend. There are only two definite end pairings I've decided on. One concerns Ron and the other concerns Tonks. Harry's final pairing isn't official yet. I'm still debating between three people. 


	6. Professor Erwin's Class

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

_**- Harry Potter and the Library of Templar -**_

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

**Chapter Six :**

_Professor Erwin's Class_

"You can't tell Harry!" The harsh whisper made Harry pause before entering the kitchen.

"Diggle, he's going to be happy!" Ron, Harry noted, wasn't concerned with keeping his voice down.

"Ron, Harry doesn't need any extra emotional trauma right now," Mrs. Weasley's voice said sternly. Harry frowned, and if anyone other than Mrs. Weasley had said that, he would have hexed them into oblivion.

"Mum, Harry isn't a china doll!" Ron's voice rang angrily in the air. "He's not going to go off his rocker, alright? You all need to stop treating him like he'll break at any moment! It's not doing him any damn good! He's starting to loose his temper and sulk around all the time like last year! And we're not helping!" Silence followed Ron's words. Harry found himself wondering what he could get Ron in thanks for his unusual insight. Had Harry been a bit more focused on Ron instead of on wondering what they were talking about, he would have noted that Ron seemed a bit too angry for the given situation.

"I'm surprised Harry hasn't asked before this," Hermione said, breaking the deafening silence.

"He's not acting like himself," Mr. Weasley agreed. Harry glowered. What were they doing, talking about him like that? He was sick of people going around and having discussions about his welfare without even asking him what he needed. In a split second, Harry made his decision. He drew back from the door and snapped it open, glaring at the room's occupants. Even with his stewing anger, Harry was surprised by how many people were in the kitchen. His shock somewhat deflated his anger. Tonks, Lupin, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Moody, Dedalus Diggle, and Kingsley Shacklebolt sat around at various spots in the room.

"Harry." Hermione's voice was a bit frightened. Had Harry seen the situation from her point, he would have been frightened too, by the look on his own face.

"What's going on?" Harry's voice came out cool, laced with anger.

"Harry, darling, why don't you sit down?" Mrs. Weasley smiled motherly at him, moving to guide him into a chair. But Harry stayed firmly where he was, eyes scanning the room's occupants.

"It's Kr-"

"Ronald!" Harry jumped at Mrs. Weasley's sharp tone. Harry wasn't sure whether or not he felt guilty for the resentment towards the Weasley matriarch.

"No, I want to know what it is," Harry said, not caring if he sounded like a petulant child. At first no one said anything.

"Kreacher is dead," Remus said calmly, a few moments later. Harry blinked. Kreacher. He hadn't even thought about what must have happened to the elf after last year. He hadn't really cared. And it was that moment that Harry realized he felt rather _happy_ with the news. It only took a second for him to balk at the notion. He was a monster, no better than Voldemort, of that Harry was sure. He was _pleased_ someone was dead? But though Harry knew he shouldn't, the feeling was unshakable.

"Oh." Harry couldn't think of anything else to say. He sat down next to Hermione, where he thought maybe Ron had been sitting before the boy had risen from his seat in anger (rather, Harry assumed this, what with not seeing it). He felt the others watching him as he took some toast and slathered it with jam. He bit into it, meeting their gazes in a form of a challenge.

"Oh?" Hermione was staring at him incredulously. "That's all you have to say?" Harry shrugged.

"Kreacher lied to me," Harry said, softly. "About Sirius." There was silence. Still sickened with himself by his pleasure, Harry felt compelled to ask. "How'd he die? And for that matter, where was he all summer?"

"Banished him to the boiler room straight after the Department of Mysteries," Moody said gruffly. Harry swallowed, stubbornly keeping himself from flinching. "He's been there ever since. We'd check on him every once in a while, to be sure he was there. Always muttering to himself about his mistress. Anyhow, Dumbledore says he's compromising our safety now. So he ordered us to off him. We copped his head off."

Harry stood there, really quite numb. Dumbledore had ordered Kreacher's execution. He blamed it on grief and stress, but he couldn't muster any ill feeling towards Dumbledore's decision. He was certainly appalled that Dumbledore would do something like that, but really, he didn't like Kreacher. He didn't care he was dead. It served him right.

"I don't know what possessed Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said briskly. "It wasn't Kreacher's fault that he was how he was. He simply didn't know any better and no one ever showed him any com-"

"He's part of the reason Sirius is dead," Harry snapped. "Tell Dumbledore a job well done." Harry walked out of the kitchen and slammed the door behind him. Harry spent the rest of the day in a temper, packing up his things and making sure Ron wasn't putting it off. This meant, unfortunately, they were finished by suppertime.

It was announced by Bill at dinner that Lidya Bones had been found dead in her sitting room by her daughter. Dinner was filled with speculation on what was to be gained from murdering Madame Bones's sister-in-law. Harry thought it all rather pointless as they all knew it was Voldemort. He did, however, wonder how Susan was taking it. To avoid talking to anyone, Harry declared he was tired as soon as he had finished eating Mrs. Weasley's delicious treacle tart. But it was long after Ron had come up and fell asleep that Harry finally dozed off.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

It was the first time Harry could remember the Weasleys arriving so early for the Hogwarts Express. While the twins (who came along to tease them about returning to school) and Ron declared it was because of the Ministry cars they'd taken ("Really, its just because of Harry."), Ginny and Harry shared the opinion that it was due to the fact Harry had helped Ron pack the day before and the twins were no longer attending Hogwarts. Whatever the reason, the group arrived at the platform an hour early. It was unsurprising that it was deserted outside of the train. The four quickly chose a compartment near the center, stowing their luggage away quickly. In a last-minute decision due mainly to aggravated hooting, Ron and Harry sent Hedwig and Pig along to the Owlry and had Mrs. Weasley shrink their cages.

"Kisses and hugs all around!" George announced.

"Yes, we must be getting back to the shop. Lee's likely to blow the place up," Fred stated.

"You know, that could be quite interesting. Might be good for business. I can only imagine what will happen now that he's made his first big murder." Harry couldn't help but agree with George. The murder of Susan's mum would make Voldemort a solid reality to everyone. He had already seen how their groups were closer-knit, their eyes alert throughout the alley.

"You two will have to come see the shop soon," George said, Fred nodding his agreement. Harry and Hermione had not gone to the store on their trip. Ron and Ginny had seen it the first day back and were mightily impressed with it.

"I almost get the feeling Mum's trying to keep you lot away." Harry couldn't help but smile at Fred's scheming whisper. "Good-bye!" he declared loudly, not even having to look to know his mother's eyes were watching him closely.

After the twins departed, Mrs. Weasley said her good-byes as well, leaving them with sandwiches, hugs, and a warning to stay out of trouble.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Ron whined. "The train won't be leaving for an hour!"

"More people will be here soon, Ron," Hermione said. "Some people enjoy not running for the train."

"Excuse me for not wanting to stand around doing nothing for hours on end!"

"That's such an exaggeration!" As the two started in on each other, Harry looked around, noting the driver and the woman in charge of the food cart were watching them from the corner of their eyes. It also didn't slip past him that he could see a mysterious bit of shoe near them, poking out form what Harry suspected was Moody's invisibility cloak, recently returned by the Ministry. He noticed Ginny was wondering back towards the entrance and pulling his bickering friends along, he followed her.

"Where are we going?" Ginny jumped, turning to glare at Harry.

"Warn me next time," she snapped, hand on her heart. He shrugged apologetically. "I wanted some tea and biscuits. And I'm supposed to meet Dean. He wants to introduce me to his family."

"So he asked you out then?" Harry asked curiously. Ginny blushed and nodded.

"It was really quite sweet." Harry was sure it was. He quickly pointed out a good chain café and purchased them all a big box of biscuits and a large mint tea. They sat down at a table, munching and watching passersby. Seeing half of a polished black boot lurking behind Hermione, Harry casually leaned over.

"Might want to cover up a bit, chap," Harry said calmly, settling back into his seat. The boot disappeared immediately and Harry sniggered to himself, quietly telling his friends about their baby-sitter. Just as Ginny downed the last of the tea and Ron inhaled the last biscuit, they spotted a group of familiar faces not far off. From the looks of it, Seamus and his parents and a boy (who they assumed was Seamus's younger brother) were walking with Dean and his family, which included a large assortment of children from twelve to infancy, one head of blond hair standing out from her dark-haired family.

"Dean!" called Ginny, her face lighting up. Dean turned and grinned widely when he saw her. Harry thought, privately, that Dean's smile faltered a little when he saw Ron glowering at him. Nonetheless, Dean led the large group over to them.

"This is my girlfriend Ginny Weasley," he said proudly. "And my friends Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley. Guys, this is my mum, dad, my brother Nat, and my sisters Paris, Vanessa, and Lucy." They exchanged greetings politely, also getting introduced to Seamus's brother Desmond and his parents. Harry noticed other Hogwarts students arriving, muggle-borns parting with their parents near the gateway to the platform and wizarding families inconspicuously slipping onto the platform.

"Come on," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione. They quickly made their excuses and Harry promised Ginny, Dean, and Seamus he'd save them seats in a compartment.

"What is it?" asked Hermione minutes later as Harry shut the compartment door. He quickly set up silencing wards.

"I have some things to tell you and I don't want to be overheard. You two had prefect duties when the train starts," Harry explained.

"Are you going to tell us where you were all summer? Why you never wrote? Why you insist on keeping it from the Order?" asked Hermione, he voice tight and accusing.

"You need to understand that I don't understand _exactly_ where I was,"  
Harry said, ignoring his friend's accusations. "And you might think I'm crazy."

"Little late for that one, mate," Ron said jestingly. Harry grinned, swatting at the boy.

"That day Shacklebolt was watching me, these elves kidnapped me."

"Elves?" Harry sighed. He knew how this all sounded.

"What type of elves?" asked Hermione, leaning forward. "Shacklebolt told Professor Dumbledore you were attacked by wizards. He said the were wearing robes. House elves are far too short to match his description."

"It wasn't house elves and they were wearing robes. This is going to be hard to understand, but I promise you'll get it in the end. I need you guys to listen to me. This isn't going to make sense. Kilarati and Atonics  they were the ones who kidnapped me  are what the elves call the High Fighter and High Magician."

"What do you mean?" Hermione interrupted. " 'The elves call.' Where _were_ you?" Harry snorted.

"They come on order of the Lord and Lady elf to take me with them to the Elvin Realm. Our realm and theirs reside in the same dimension. Get it so far?" The two nodded, looking slightly confused. "A doorway opened for reasons that aren't really important but are linked back to my magic. Under orders, they traced a magical link to me and brought me back with them. I was informed that I was being sent to Matiku ver Amik, which is the Ageless Building, roughly translated from Elvish."

"You know Elvish?" Hermione broke in with awe. "There's an language called Elvish?"

"Yes. This will be easier if you just listen and ask me all your questions afterwards, okay?"

"In other words, shut it, Hermione," Ron put in with a grin. Hermione sent him a withering glare but remained silent for the rest of Harry's explanation.

"Right, so, Matiku ver Amik is a training center for young elves interested in becoming part of the Royal Guard. The Royal Guard is a military force consisting of fighters and magicians that work for the Empire Elves, who replaced the royals about four thousand years ago. The Elvin Realm is split into three main regions each with their own Emperor and Empress but all under the elected Elvin Council. All the regions have sub-areas, like over in the states. There's also the assortment of islands which still have their royal lines in power although they're under the Elvin Council as well. Otherwise they'd be risking war.

"Those who make it through their stay at Matiku ver Amik become Silver Guards. The Silver Guard is a back-up military of sorts. They assist in times of war, mainly in defending villagers. Wars break out in the regions between the sub-areas. Anyways, the point is that I went through training and became a Silver Guard. Matiku ver Amik is extraordinary because time moves faster within its walls. So I completed about six years of training in three weeks. All we did was train inside there. For elves, because they live about ten thousand years, it's hardly a passing moment.

"After I completed my stay at Matiku ver Amik, I was meant to be sent back. My being brought in for training was a formality because I was connected to the opening of the doorway. But then a war started. I spent the rest of the summer with Kilarati and Atonics. The High Fighter and High Magician belong to the Elvin Council and have power across the entire realm. They out-rank the Emperors and Empresses but not the Lord and Lady Elf, who head the Elvin Council.

"Kilarati and Atonics managed to get their hands on one of the pendants to open a doorway and they sent me back to Privet Drive. I snuck into number four and went up to bed. The next morning I feigned stupidity. That's about it." Harry wasn't sure if he should tell them everything. It wasn't a matter of trust, no, he would tell the two things he'd never tell anyone else (was about to, for that matter).

"Bloody hell," Ron said intelligently. Harry chuckled.

"That's what I said," Harry put in.

"Harry, you realize what you're telling us? You've spent a summer with _elves_. I can't even… I mean… Harry this is just…. What are the differences between us and elves?" Hermione said, sounding short of breath. Harry knew she was about to burst. Apparently she'd chosen to look at the situation from a scholar's point of view and think later about what exactly Harry's words meant.

"Elves have pointy ears," he replied seriously. Hermione rolled her eyes. "They live quite significantly longer than muggles and wizards. Their culture is extremely different. It's more open and advanced in magical aspects but also more like our past and much more dangerous. Their customs are quite different, but you can draw parallels. Um, they have prettier buildings?"

"You are such a boy," Hermione muttered. Harry saw her prepare to ask another, most probably more specific, question.

"Hermione, you can ask me all about elves later, okay. There's something more I need to tell you. It's about last year, and I just couldn't handle talking about it then. But I've had a lot of time to stew." Harry braced himself and let the explanation of everything that had happened in Dumbledore's office spill forth. He recited the words of the prophecy with his on his shoes. There was silence when he finished. He cast a nervous look at his friends. He could tell Hermione was working in over-drove, no doubt trying to interpret each line in every possible way. Ron simply sat there looking confounded.

"Fuck," Ron said at last. Hermione didn't even scold him about his language.

"Harry, you realize that-" But just what Harry was supposed to realize, he wouldn't find out until later. The compartment door slid open to reveal Seamus.

"Where're the other two?" asked Harry, privately a little glad that the prophecy would remain off the topic list for the next few hours on the train ride.

"Dunno," Seamus said with a shrug. "I left them outside the platform for Dean to say good-bye to his family. Vanessa hates it when he leaves for school. They'll probably find somewhere to snog for a while."

"I'll rip off his bloody lips," Ron seethed. He stood angrily and stormed from the compartment.

"Oh dear," Hermione said, chewing her lip. "Do you think he's gone to find them?"

"Yup," chorused the two boys. Hermione stood and rushed after Ron.

"Like she'll be able to stop him from going spastic," Seamus muttered. "There's a reason I didn't try to date Ginny last year." Harry snorted.

"You're only interested in getting in bed with Padma Patil," Harry said. Seamus didn't deny the statement. The door slid open again and Harry saw Neville standing there, clutching his toad, Trevor, tightly in his hands along with a new plant.

"Can I sit with you two?" Neville asked. Harry was slightly astonished. Neville had lost weight over the summer. He was by no means thin, but he was significantly smaller. Harry also noticed Neville was at least two inches taller than him. Harry had grown a good four inches over the summer, and Neville used to be Harry's height, if not a little shorter. Harry figured he should resign himself to a life of being short. He blamed the cupboard.

But despite the change in physique, Harry noticed Neville was still looking a little wary at Seamus. The five boys from the dorm got on very well, but it was no secret that Neville might feel left out, with Seamus and Dean being best friends and Harry, Hermione, and Ron being best friends. The other two Gryffindors in their year, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, were best friends as well.

"Yeah," Seamus said. Seamus himself sat down across from Harry. Neville took a seat by his side.

"We're not all going to fit," Harry pointed out.

"All who?" asked Seamus.

"The three of us, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dean, and Luna," Harry stated.

"Loony Lovegood?" Seamus inquired. "I saw her a few compartments back that way."

"One of us should go get her before Malfoy shows up to make fun of her," Neville suggested.

"Thanks for volunteering," Harry said. "And I have an idea so we can all fit."

"Lavender and Parvati will want to stop by and gossip." This idea appeared to be painful for Seamus as he shuddered. Harry couldn't help but agree. Neville stood up and set Trevor in Harry's lap and the plant on the seat, going to find Luna.

Giving the toad to Seamus, Harry stood up and pulled out his wand and a book someone had sent for his birthday. (He was quite sure it was Madame Bones.) Flipping through the pages he stopped when coming to page three hundred and five. Reading it over again, Harry repeated the spell softly to himself, practicing the motions afterwards. He took a deep breath and stood facing the wall behind Seamus, who moved quickly out of the way. Harry combined the jut, swing, flick wand motion with the short, sharp spell. He grinned as the wall behind the seats melted away to show the compartment next to theirs, mercifully empty.

"Bugger," Seamus said. He grabbed the book from Harry and began flipping through it. "Where'd you get this?"

"Birthday gift," Harry said. "Thanks for the sugar quills, by the way. Ginny and Hermione pilfered them the first night."

"Where were you anyhow?" Seamus asked, perching on the top of the seat backs between the compartments where the wall once stood. He looked up fro the book as he asked.

"Can't say for sure," Harry shrugged. "Doesn't really matter. I'm not insane or dead, so we're all good, aren't we?"

"You should be worried about turning puce," came a solemn statement from the door.

"Nice to see you again, Luna," Harry greeted. "Why am I worried about turning puce?"

"You were abducted by merklehogs," Luna informed him, crawling over the seats into the added compartment. Seamus raised an eyebrow but just went back to examining the contents of Harry's book.

"What did you do? This is cool," Neville said. Seamus motioned him over and flipped back to the other spell's page. Harry sat down next to Neville's plant, looking it over. It was ten minutes later that Ginny and Dean came into the compartment and were swept into the small group hovering over the book. Luna didn't bother looking, just sat reading the _Quibbler._

The train jerked to life soon after. Harry stared listlessly out the window as they sped through the city and into the country. As they rumbled over a long bridge, Harry felt someone sit down next to him. He looked over to see that Lavender and Parvati had come in without him noticing. "Hello, Harry," Lavender said sweetly. Parvati sat herself across from Harry, a slight tint to her cheeks.

"Hello," he said shortly. Harry wasn't in the mood for the two Gryffindors to be fine-combing him for good gossip.

"How was your summer?" Lavender asked.

"Eventful."

"Dating anyone?" asked Lavender. Harry looked at her incredulously.

"What kind of a question is that?"

"Well, I started dating Terry Boot over the summer. And Dean and Ginny officially hooked up and Marietta Edgecombe slept with Roger Davis. Though, personally, I think Roger could have done better. Marietta has these horrible pimples across her forehead." Harry snorted. Served the sneak right.

"I'm not dating anyone," Harry said calmly. He wondered if that would count as truthful. It wasn't like he _was_. But he had been.

"Good, glad you're over Cho Chang. Now, I happen to know Hannah Abott is fully ready to date you. Not to mention Susienka Boulevard and a number of other girls. You're the flavor of the month, Harry. Everyone wants to be with you after everything that went down with the Ministry. Oh, and Kennith McClipper is into you, but I doubt you swing that way." Harry just gave her a look.

"I have no interest in dating any of those girls," Harry said firmly. "Or guys." Parvati looked pleased with this, even as Lavender huffed. Harry rolled his eyes as the two climbed over by Luna and made themselves comfortable. They captured Luna's attention by stealing her quill as she marked a quiz and began a rapid discussion with Ginny and Luna about some trendy magazine. Harry wondered if they noticed that Ginny was bored and Luna wasn't listening. Knowing them, he doubted it.

The rest of the train ride went by quickly. People stopped in to say hi, more often than not to stare at Harry with wide eyes. Lavender and Parvati spent hours drifting around and coming back to report gossip. Ron and Hermione appeared halfway there, bickering per usual. It began to rain shortly after, causing the lanterns to fill the compartment with a glow. Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Neville played exploding snap the rest of the way while Dean and Ginny cuddled and Hermione read beside Luna.

Hermione pulled a grumbling Ron out of the compartment with her as the train began to slow. Harry quickly reversed his spell on the compartments and walked off the train with Neville and Luna. A heavy fog filled the air. The ground was mushy from the rain. The three climbed into a carriage, leaving the door open for Ron and Hermione. Numerous times students poked their heads in to ask to ride with them, and Harry did his best to ignore them.

By the time they reached the castle, nearly everyone else was already inside. It started to drizzle again as they trooped inside. Luna drifted away, still reading, as they entered the Great Hall. "Mr. Potter." Harry spun around, surprised. His friends jumped.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said indifferently.

"I'd like to speak with you a moment, my boy," he said calmly. Harry bristled at the name, but followed the headmaster out into the hall and through the winding corridors to a great stone gargoyle. "Canary Cream." The gargoyle sprang back to reveal the twisting stairs that led to Dumbledore's office. "You'll be wanting to remember that password." Harry said nothing. He continued to shadow Dumbledore up the stairs and into his office.

Harry noticed right away that Dumbledore had repaired nearly everything that he'd broken in his rage the previous year. The contents of the office were moved around, though the desk still sat in the same spot. The small table fore tea had been moved, Fawkes's perch sat to the left of Dumbledore's desk. The self behind Dumbledore's desk housed not only Gryffindor's sword and an empty place for the Sorting Hat but also a few broken objects Harry knew he was responsible for. He couldn't help the urking guilt.

"Mr. Potter, take a seat," Dumbledore gestured to the small tea table. Dumbledore took the seat across from him. They sat and looked at each other for what Harry figured was a very unproductive five minutes before Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "You are still upset with me." Harry snorted. "I will not pretend I understand why. But you must realize Harry, that this is not a good situation. I hope that you will be able to forgive me for whatever it is I have done, and I'm sure there are countless reasons you could have. Regardless Harry, we will be having private lessons this year."

"Of course, sir," Harry said stiffly. "Is that all?" Dumbledore sighed.

"Harry, it may not appear so, but I do care about you." Harry kept his gaze steady. "You may return to the feast, I'll be along in a moment." Harry paused as he got t the door and glanced back to Dumbledore. The old wizard had his face covered with one hand, his shoulders sagged. It struck Harry how incredibly old the man was. Turning, Harry quietly made his way back to the Great Hall.

Ron and Hermione motioned him over and he slid between them, resolutely ignoring the stares and whispers of his schoolmates. The sorting hat's loud declaration of "HUFFLEPUFF" caused most to fall silent. Unless, of course, it was McGonagall's death glare. Harry was startled to see Dumbledore already seated at the Head Table, apparently absorbed in the sorting of Illura, Cecilia. As the sorting continued, Harry told his friends in rushed whispers about his lessons with Dumbledore.

It seemed all too soon that the feast was ending and Dumbledore was standing up. With a jolt and mental curse, Harry realized he'd forgotten to scout out the new teacher. Scanning the Head Table quickly, Harry located the new addition. The woman had plain waves of auburn hair tied out of her eyes with a strip of ribbon and murky brown eyes with long lashes. Her robes were a deep blue, looking nice but nor overly expensive. She sat straight in her chair and her soft features gave her the look of a tabby cat.

"Ah, yes, such a lovely feast, wasn't it? Now then, I'd like to announce to the first years that you are under no circumstances to enter the Forbidden Forest. A great many items have been banned. To be sure you don't have any of them, please refer to the complete list on and around Mr. Filch's office door. Anyone interested in quidditch should refer to their Head of House or their house's tam captain. And lastly, I would like you all to welcome your new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Erwin." Erwin gave them a kind smile and a wave. "First years follow the prefects to the dorm."

Hermione told them she was going to help with the first years, rushing over to Collin Creevey and Willow White, the new Gryffindor prefects. Ron and Harry stayed seated as people left, deciding to avoid the jam at the doorway. "Ron! Harry!" They groaned but answered Hermione's summons.

"Make them move!" she cried, gesturing wildly at the mass before them.

"Hermione, they aren't going to," Ron said.

"I'm not a prefect, don't look at me."

"Harry Potter, I don't care whether or not you're the queen! I want you to help me before these first years get trompled!" Said first years were looking at Hermione with somewhat of a frightened expression. Harry noted that Desmond Finnegan was a Gryffindor.

"Just tell them Harry says to move and they'll do it," Ron suggested. Harry was rather put out by the fact that this was true. The people around them were looking at him none too subtly. Harry's face flushed as he noticed the amount of girls eyeing him up.

"Follow me," he muttered. People let Harry and Ron pass, leaving a pathway for Hermione. He heard Collin and Willow explaining Hogwarts as they went and was strongly reminded of his first year. Harry ducked under a tapestry of a group of knights and arrived at the portrait moments later. Relaying the password ("divided we fall"), Harry gratefully sank into an armchair by the fire. Five minutes later, Hermione and Ron were seated with him.

"What did the sorting hat say this year?" he asked, pulling on a loose thread on his robes.

"Warned us to unite," Ron mumbled.

"Didn't you hear what it said?" Hermione asked. "It said each house has secrets."

"So?" Ron shrugged.

"The hat never says things just to say them," Hermione informed them. And Harry couldn't help but agree with her.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Breakfast the next morning was a loud affair. Nearly everyone was running late. Harry had just received his schedule and was comparing it with Ron and Hermione's. Ron spluttered as he looked at her schedule, silently handing it to Harry.

"Five N.E.W.T. courses?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Hermione said calmly, grabbing for the jam.

"Plus two standard classes," Ron added.

"You know they recommend we take no more than six classes, including four N.E.W.T. levels at the most," Harry said.

"You're taking seven classes too," she pointed out. "Not counting your Light Arts course."

"Hermione, I'm taking four N.E.W.T. classes because I have to. Two of my classes are basic," he stressed.

They had been sent letters informing them of the change in their class system. They already knew from friends what would happen. They'd select a region they were interested in, if not a specific job, and they'd pick two to four N.E.W.T. level classes around that. These would work to help them get phenomenal scores on their tests. They could then select a subject or two to continue on in at the standard level. That way they could add more support to their career. Basic classes were offered in extra classes like Arithmancy if they hadn't chosen the class in third year but their field called for some knowledge of the subject.

Harry, having gotten his surprising Potions O, was set on being an Auror. This meant he was taking Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions all at N.E.W.T. level. He chose Herbology as his standard class thinking it would help with potions. And he'd need all the help he could get. He'd be damned if he knew how he'd scraped an Outstanding. Although it may have had something to do with those questions on Polyjuice.

"We have Charms in ten minutes, you'd better hurry up," Hermione said.

"What are you going to do after school anyhow?" asked Ron curiously, shoveling bacon into his mouth.

"Professor McGonagall told me about Researching."

"Oh, fun," Harry said. Hermione laughed.

"It really isn't as mundane as it sounds. Researchers study the aspects of magic. They create knew spells and examine and test those sent in by others. Most of the good textbooks come from retired Researchers or the entire team. Besides, I'd really like to get into politics, to go further with S.P.E.W. Researchers often work at other things as well. Your mum was a Researcher, Harry." Harry hadn't known that. Then again, no one had told him very much about his parents.

"I wonder what my dad did." Ron looked up.

"You don't know?" he asked, frowning. Harry shook his head. "Your dad was an Unspeakable. That's why people thought Voldemort was after your family."

"Oh." And Harry couldn't think of anything else to say. Luckily, he didn't have to as Hermione dragged them off to class early so they could get front row seats.

As the day progressed, Harry got a feeling of dread. They already had a large essay in Charms to write and they were working on complex illusions and glamours for the first part of the year. Transfiguration had been a nightmare that Harry wasn't willing to think about. His standard Herbology lesson with Ron had been alright, except for the fact he'd been paired with Millicent Bulstrode for the first three weeks, who Harry admitted scared him slightly. After lunch, Harry had basic Ancient Runes which he discovered was a subject he might enjoy. If Malfoy weren't in the class. But then he had double potions.

He caught up with Hermione, who'd just gotten out of History of Magic and bid Ron, on his way to basic muggle studies, a good-bye. The two walked down to the dungeons to wait outside Snape's room. There were students in the hall already. "This is the most students to get into N.E.W.T. Potions since Professor Snape started," Hermione hissed. Harry figured she was right. There was Theodore Nott, Anthony Goldstein, Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, Padma Patil, Morag MacDougal, Malfoy, and Ravenclaw Harry _thought_ was Godiva Sage.

The door opened and the last class poured out, looking relieved. Hermione unnecessarily hissed that it was the standard sixth years. To his surprise, Neville and Lavender were two of the students. They were both muttering to each other with dark looks on their faces. Harry didn't have much time to think about it as Hermione tugged him into the room. Snape immediately glared at him, clearly upset Harry had gotten an O on his tests. He snapped the door shut and spun on the class.

"I cannot fathom how a year with so many imbeciles managed to produce any students for my N.E.W.T. level class. While some of you," he looked to Malfoy and then Goldstein, "are here due to your talents, I am more than willing to bet others used far less… honorable means to gain access to my class." He sneered pointedly at Harry, who in turn resisted the bait. The look of loathing didn't count. "Regardless of how you got here, you are now in the most difficult class you will ever take. I expect each and every one of you to perform excellently or I will have no qualms about throwing you out of this classroom by the scruff of your neck." Harry bristled as Snape talked, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

They spent half of the lesson listening to Snape lecture them on his standards. Harry would never admit it, but he was worried. They were then told to prepare the ingredients for their first potion, a truth serum that wouldn't allow you to outright lie. Truth serums, Harry knew, were some of the hardest potions to brew correctly. He was specific in chopping and skinning. The rest they'd have to do in the next lesson. Snape swept around the room making derisive comments on everyone's work, with the exception of Malfoy and Goldstein.

_How'd Anthony get on his good side?_ Harry wondered. The boy had been in the DA and Harry knew he was a Ravenclaw. Not soon enough, the lesson ended and Harry exited the room quickly.

That night, Harry sat down and got to work on his charms essay while Hermione did out some Arithmancy and Ron was across the room talking to Katie Bell, the Gryffindor chaser. Ron approached Harry immediately after finishing his conversation. "Harry, Katie says she's not captain."

"So?" Harry chewed on the end of his quill, flipping through a book of Hermione's, trying to find an illusioned property he could use in his essay.

"So that means it's you!" Harry looked up, trying not to laugh.

"Ron, McGonagall knows I'm rubbish at strategy," Harry said.

"It's not me." Harry noticed that Ron seemed slightly put out by this. "There's no one else."

"Honestly Ron, what about your sister?" snapped Hermione. Ron looked at her like she'd sprouted tentacles from her nose.

"Ginny can't be captain. She doesn't technically have a spot on the team since Harry's back."

"Ask her," Harry said. Ron gave him an odd look before going to find his sister. Half an hour later, the portrait slammed shut as Ginny stormed in, causing Harry to spill ink all across his essay. Cursing, Harry cleaned it. Ron followed his sister moments later.

"Ginny!" he yelled. His sister whirled around.

"I'm not going to speak to you until you stop being a prick!" she hollered. "I'm really excited to be captain! You're my brother! You should be HAPPY for me!" Ginny rushed up to the girls' dorms, her dorm mates following her after a moment.

Ron muttered things to himself as he glared at the surrounding third years. He sat down on the floor in front of the low table and slammed his things down, pulling out his writing supplies and charms tomb.

"Ron, what in the name of Merlin did you say to her?" asked Hermione, looking up after Ginny.

"She's captain!" he snarled.

"You should be happy for your sister," Hermione reprimanded, eyes blazing. "Just because she's captain and you're not, it doesn't give you a right to be mean to her! I've never seen you act so petty in your entire life!" She slammed her books together and stormed off to her room.

"You agree with me, don't you?" Ron turned to Harry expectantly.

"Look, Ron, Ginny's going to be a good captain. She doesn't mind telling the truth and being aggressive. Katie and I aren't like that." Harry paused, examining his essay. "Neither are you." He could feel Ron's glare on him for the rest of the night.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Hermione wasn't speaking to Ron the next day and Ron wasn't speaking to Harry or Hermione. This made the walk to Defense Against the Dark Arts an aggravating affair, with Ron glowering at his best friends. Harry took a seat in the front with Hermione while Neville and Ron sat one desk set over. Professor Erwin wasn't in the room yet. The rest of the class arrived, which turned out to be nearly everyone from their year. Mercifully missing were Crabbe and Goyle. Harry had been pleased to note that every member of the DA was in the class.

The room was different than it had ever been before. There were weapons that looked to have seen better days hung as a border of sorts around the top of the walls. The teacher's desk was in the corner, a series of boxes and a fishbowl across the front. There were shelves on the wall around it, stock full of books. The desks were in a horseshoe, with two rows. The floor was black in the large, open space at the front of the room. There was no blackboard. A large tapestry hung across the back of the room, depicting muggle knights training. Beside it was a large fish tank with colorful fish darting about inside. Five large clouded glass orbs were strung from the ceiling.

Just as Harry was about to ask Hermione what they were, the room went pitch dark. Harry drew his wand immediately. "_Lumos_." But as soon as the tip of his wand lit, it went out. Harry tried again. The same thing happened. Across the room he heard Morag MacDougal letting out a stream of French curses.

"_Claflamara_!" Silver light burst from Hermione's wand and struck the ceiling. She repeated it, this time it hit one of the glass balls, lighting it up and casting an eerie glow through part of the room.

"How-" but Ron was cut off by the ground shifting beneath their feet. Shrieks came form around the room as people lost their footing.

"What the hell is going on?" yelled Seamus. Harry narrowed his eyes, looking every direction.

"Hermione," Harry said loudly, through the panicked murmurs. "Try and light up the rest of the bulbs so we can see what we're doing." As Hermione did just that, Harry tried to figure out what was going on. Voldemort wouldn't have been able to do this. Not without inside help, and Malfoy looked as confused as everyone, so that ruled out one possibility. _Unless,_ a silky voice in the recess of his mind called, _Snape helped him._ Harry shook off that train of thought.

"Will you all calm down!" Ron hollered, having magnified his voice. "It isn't bloody You-Know-Who." As he said the words, the ground lurched again, churning in an unnatural pattern. This quake lasted for a fill two minutes before subsiding. Harry saw his classmates were pale and wide-eyed. Hermione had succeeded in lighting two more bulbs, and was aiming for the forth. Ron was now going about calming down a hysterical Hannah Abbott in a much more traditional form than his annoyed yells.

"Have you ever heard of a spell like this?" Harry asked Hermione. She shook her head.

"Messing with the elements is very hard magic. There's thousands of spells for it, but it's a borderline dark arts. Not many attempt them, you need a special permit from the Ministry and the only way you can learn is from an Elemental. There haven't been any new registrations at the Ministry in fifty years. The last one died six years ago." Harry couldn't help but think about how many unregistered Animagi they had met in the last few years.

"But do you know a way to counter it?" he asked. As Hermione made to answer, the ground came to life again and she fell with a small squeak. Ron quickly left Hannah and helped her up. The ground still rolled and Harry motion for them all to fall to their knees. He crouched, holding himself steady with a hand.

"Is there anything you two notice about this all?" he asked, glancing out across the room. Seeing Blaise Zabini fall to the ground, his wrist snapping at an odd angle, Harry loudly ordered everyone to sit on the ground. They listened. Ron was watching the motions of the floor as Hermione continued to shoot her spell at the glass orbs, succeeding in lighting another.

"Watch they way it moves," Ron said. "It's all rolling one way. We're shifting to one side of the room." Harry snapped his head to the door, a sinking feeling welling up as he realized they'd all been shifted away from it. The closest one was Sally-Anne Perks and she was a good fifteen meters away. He cursed rapidly in Elvish. As soon as the ground stilled, he rose.

"Everyone get to the door as fast as you can!" he yelled. Immediately they scrambled to comply. Sally-Anne got there first, wrenching furiously at the door.

"It's locked!" she cried. Neville pushed her aside and performed the unlocking spell. Harry had a moment of pride at his rather calm exterior before he realized the attempt had failed and the ground was moving again. Something sent everyone but Perks and Neville flying back a few yards. The ground before the door began to rumble, slowly, the floor in front of Harry, Ron, and Hermione started dropping down. He rose and began to walk backwards as the speed of descent rapidly increased. A rumble filled the room as straight across, from wall to wall, a ten-meter trench formed in the ground. And then the floor on which Neville and Perks stood dissolved sharply.

Perks's scream rang in the air shrilly. Harry was about to jump after them when Dean grabbed him by the robes. Ron and Hermione flung themselves on their stomachs and cast levitation spells after the two. Dean started lecturing Harry about stupid ideas as they waited to see if their classmates were okay. Sally-Anne's head came over the top and the rest of her followed. She was limp, having fainted. Neville didn't come up. Cursing, Harry realized both their spells had hit the same target.

"ACCIO, NEVILLE!" A whizzing grew and Neville shot out of the hole. Susan's quick cushion spell saved Neville from being squished on the rocky ceiling. The class gathered in a circle around Harry.

"We need to get to the door," Padma Patil said. "Got a plan, Harry?" He gave her an incredulous look. "Come on; just pretend it's the DA." Harry shut his eyes, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand.

"We need to unlock the door," Harry said evenly. "Hermione-" She grinned and turned to the wooden obstacle, and she began casting different spells on it. Terry Boot joined her and the two brains conversed about different unlocking spells, trying to solve the mystery of the door.

"Can anyone think of some way to get us across that mote once we've gotten the door open?" Harry asked. Malfoy was hanging back, glaring coolly at Harry. His faithful lackeys weren't in the class and it appeared the rest of the Slytherins were far more concerned with getting out of the room than with house rivalries.

"I've got a spell." Harry turned to the boy who'd spoken. His skin was a light bronze, his hair a deep, rich, brown hanging to his shoulders. Harry was forcefully reminded of a pirate movie Dudley had gotten for his sixth birthday, which he'd played over and over for two months before he'd accidentally stepped on it. The boy bore a strong resemblance to one of the young deck-washers. Harry tried to recall the Slytherin's name, but all he could come up with was Moon.

"Go on, Moon," said Harry. He'd ask Hermione for his name later.

"My grandfather taught it to me. It freezes water. If someone could shoot water across, I can freeze it until we have a bridge," Moon said, his dark eyes unwavering.

"Moon!" The dark youth turned to Malfoy, whose face was agitated. He made a come-hither gesture and with a sigh only Harry picked up on, Moon walked away with Malfoy. Harry perked his ears, picking up the conversation no one else would hear.

"Moon, what do you think you're doing!" Malfoy hissed. Moon didn't respond. "You're a Slytherin, you're not to be helping Potter and his little mudblood friends." Moon still said nothing. "You'd better watch you step, or you'll loose your favor in Slytherin." With that, Malfoy stalked back to the group, hovering near Zabini. Moon returned as well, his eyes narrowed in a barely perceptible degree and his mouth a little thinner.

"_Reducto_!" Harry whirled around to see Ron standing beside Hermione and Terry, watching the spell shatter the door into hundreds of flying shards. Ron's mouth had dropped open.

"How did you think of that!" Hermione cooed, delighted.

"I just… er, I got a bit annoyed is all," Ron mumbled, gesturing vaguely. Harry was rather certain that if Ron hadn't been in shock, he would have reveled in Hermione's praise and fully claimed the spell to be his brilliance.

"Moon," Harry gestured him forward and told Hermione the plan. She nodded and quickly shot a stream of water from her wand. A few minutes later and she and Moon had created a bridge, straight out through the door and into the hallway. "Ill walk across first, to be sure it's sturdy." Harry edged across slowly, all the while feeling as though he was getting hotter and hotter. As he got with reach of the door, he heard a cracking noise. As he went to bolt the last yard, the ice cracked and he fell. As soon as he began to fall, he felt himself halt and drift upwards, Hermione's voice echoing down below him.

Ron and Seamus and Dean pulled him over the ledge. "The ice melted," Seamus told him. The rest of them were sweating as well. "We all thought we were just nervous." Harry nodded, whipping his forehead with his sleeve.

"Cooling charm," Harry murmured. Dean complied, Seamus following. A few others did as well and soon it felt as though they were in a chunk of ice, their sweat long forgotten. They rebuilt their bridge. This time, Harry made it across, calling to Parvati to follow. They continued to cast cooling charms, countering the heating spells, as the rest of the class crossed the bridge. They group sank to the ground once they'd all crossed, each flooded with relief.

But Harry turned to the suits of armor a yard or two down the wall, gazing at the woman standing next to them. She held his eyes for a moment before clapping slowly.

"Rather impressive," she said loudly. The class turned in surprised. Comprehension flickered in Hermione's eyes as she stood. Harry saw a bit of resentment cross her face as she stiffened her posture. "Quite a bit more than I was expecting, with you magical came of musical Defense professors. Follow me."

Professor Erwin pushed off the wall, and walked tranquilly back into her classroom, flicking her wand at the shattered door on the way. Harry stared after her, before following through the new oak door.

A/N : As I have always known since beginning this, I am completing it. It is now AU post-fifth book. I happen to have planned this entire story. The sixth book is not changing that. Despite the fact that Snape is, in fact, evil in canon, he is not in this story, mainly because of the plot. But also because its fanfiction and I can make him nice if I want to. Also, as much as I love Remus and Tonks in a relationship, they are, unfortunately, not together in this one because I wanted to try something new. I would, however, very much like boast about the fact that I've always wanted Harry and Ginny together and same with Ron and Hermione. So my ships look to be what JK Rowling wanted, which makes me happy. Out of curiosity, does anyone else think Harry and Ginny's reestablishment make be eluded to in the seventh book? Because I desperately hope it is. I happen to want them to marry and have babies. I'm still debating whether or not to have Harry end up with her in my story, because I've been going for less common ships. Such as who I'm pairing Tonks with. Anyhow, if you're going to hate the story because of Snape, I'm sorry. Just remember he doesn't kill Dumbledore in this one. I really do dislike him in the books at the moment. But it's fanfiction. I'm not going to dislike him in fanfiction unless he's evil in that. This is now my first AU story that I'm writing as it's AU. Wahoo.


	7. Weasley vs Weasley

**Chapter Seven :**

_Weasley vs. Weaslely_

Harry gave a strangled cry as he slammed his fist into the punching bag. He spun out and threw a kick. As soon as he made contact, Harry slid to the ground and sat, slightly short of breath, his frustration spent. He glared at the walls of the Room of Requirement. Despite the extremely handy training facility the room fulfilled, Harry knew he needed a different spot. Somewhere that he could train with the knowledge no one would randomly pop in. He could just imagine Ginny and Dean sneaking off here to snog. Which he immediately stopped thinking about.

As he thought it, the door opened and he quickly scrambled up, glancing around and trying to will the room to change. It didn't work, but when he realized it was Ron and Hermione, he relaxed and fell unceremoniously back to the floor. "What's up?" he mumbled.

"You look disgusting," Ron informed him.

"You smell too," Hermione said with distaste.

"I've been training ever since classes ended," Harry said.

"I can't believe Professor Erwin did that!" Hermione cried. She had been outraged when the Defense professor had informed them that their little crisis was, in fact, a test that they'd passed with flying colors. After giving them their assignment (shield spell essay), Erwin had dismissed the class early. They'd spent the next twenty minutes listening to Hermione rant about how dangerous Erwin's idea was. Apparently, Hermione didn't appreciate Erwin's teaching style.

"Moody put us under imperius," Ron said flatly.

"That was different," Hermione snarled.

"How'd you two know I was here," Harry cut in. Sheepishly, Ron pulled the Marauder's Map from his robes and handed it to Harry. They must have checked it just as he entered the room.

"Harry, we need to talk about everything you told us," Hermione said seriously. He rubbed his forehead as he nodded. "You realize what that prophecy could mean, don't you?"

"I kill Voldemort or he kills me," Harry summed up.

"Well, that's one interpretation." Harry jerked his head up. "You see, that's the plane meaning. But I looked up a few things in the library-"

"We've only been here two days."

"This is important," Hermione said. "Now listen, there are a few different things the prophecy could mean. First, there's the most likely answer; you must kill him or he must kill you. But there's more it could mean." At this point, Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment. She quickly chanted a nursery rhyme about King Cole, ignoring Ron's incredulous look. She then poured ink over the parchment and the prophecy appeared in large letters. Under each line was Hermione's small script of what appeared to be notes. A list of books were along the left side and bottom.

"The first line is quite clear. When Trelawney made this prophecy, the person capable of killing Voldemort was on his way. We're going to call this person Vir. Vanquish is also defined as 'to defeat in a conflict.' But we're going to make the very small assumption that the only way to defeat him is to kill him. The second line tells of who Vir will be born to, parents who have each 'defied' Voldemort three times. It also says Vir will be born at the end of July. Then Voldemort will 'mark' Vir as his equal. Your scar. And Vir has powers Voldemort knows not. You, Harry, have an innate sense of right and wrong. And love. You have that as well. We all know Voldemort doesn't understand that.

"But the next bit is what we all think is important. _And either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives. _Either has two definitions. 'Being the one or the other of two' and 'being the one **and** the other of two.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Ron.

Harry looked at Hermione as he answered Ron's question. "Voldemort and I might both have to die."

A moment later, "Well, that's rubbish," Ron said dismissively. "You'll just blow him up. Why would you have to die?" Harry smiled at Ron. It was these moments that made Ron his best friend.

"That's not all," Hermione interrupted. "The Other could be someone completely different."

"Yeah, I thought about that," Harry murmured. "About the Other being neither of us."

"Harry, I'm sure Dumbledore's right," Hermione said into the silence. "It will come down to you and Voldemort. I've always thought it would, ever since the stone. We knew it back then, Ron and I. It was you that had to go on. Ron said it himself. Not him, not me. You."

"But there's always a chance," Harry said softly.

"Yes, there is." Hermione's voice became sharp. "I don't put a lot of stock into divination. This prophecy could be a load of crap. But it could be true. Either way, you will fight Voldemort because he believes it. Because he believes it, it will become true, it is true."

"The definitions of a bunch of words won't change anything, in the end you know," Ron said. "You'll defeat him Harry. No matter what. There's a third of a chance that it's what the prophecy says. And there's no doubt you'll win. You're Harry sodding Potter, for Merlin's sake. It's just what you do."

They sat in the comfortable silence of old friends until they departed for supper.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

"Harry, I've figured it out," Hermione announced the next morning. Loud breakfast conversations were carrying on around them; something Harry had learned long ago was better cover than an empty room. "The Shrieking Shack."

Harry grinned at her brilliance. On their way to supper the night before, he'd asked them where they thought he ought to train. Hermione had promised to think it over.

"Brilliant, as always," Ron said brightly.

"Ron." The three turned to look at Ginny. The two hadn't spoken since their fight the other night. Ron and Hermione's argument had been mercifully forgotten in the aftermath of Erwin's test. "Quidditch try-outs are going to be Saturday. I expect you to be there if you're staying on the team. See you later, Harry, Hermione."

Harry glanced at Ron, who was glaring after her. "Was that a threat?" he demanded, turning to his friends. "She can't kick me off the team."

"Yes, she can," Hermione said frostily. "She's your captain."

"Harry!" Their impending argument was avoided at the arrival of Susan Bones and Terry Boot. Harry was quite surprised to see Susan. She'd missed the first few days of classes, on account of her mother's funeral. Her face was haggard and her eyes had sleepless black circles but she was freshly showered and she was just finishing an apple. There was no smile on her lips, but there were no tear stains on her face.

"We were wondering when our first meeting was going to be," Terry murmured quietly.

"What meeting?" Harry asked, confused.

"The D.A.," Terry said hurriedly. "We've all still got our coins."

"But we did that because of Umbridge," Harry said. "This year we haven't got a teacher who's total rubbish." Terry and Susan looked severely disappointed.

"Isn't there anything you could teach us? I mean, with You-Know-Who back and everything, we should get as much practice as possible," said Susan. "I don't want to end up like- like my- my mum." Her hands were shaking and her face was white as parchment.

"I'll think about it," Harry amended. Harry decided that his statement was well wroth it as Susan's face lit up and she gave him a large smile before she hurried off to tell her friends. Harry watched her go, the sunlight from the illusioned ceiling making her hair shimmer in this really interesting way.

Harry's daydream was cut short by the mail arriving. A very official looking bird landed in front of Ron, primly stretching out its leg. He hastily undid the letter and shoved it in his pocket. Before Harry could ask Fred and George's owl landed in front of Ron.

"Wonder what they want," Ron muttered, ripping open the letter. His jaw dropped, numbly he handed the parchment to Harry and Hermione.

_Check, Rosie, Beaver, and Purveyor,_

_We figured that since no one else is going to tell you and they didn't say we couldn't, you might want to know what everyone was so tense about the last few days. See, when we took out the wall the hag was on, we disrupted the structure of the house, so the charms the hag put on it all sort of went to hell. But Bumblebee got everything fixed up, and hopefully before L. Moldy found out. So we're all safe as pickles again. And we even accio-d all rats of the area, and nothing slimy came flying at us, so we're all good._

_Wheeze and Mischief_

"What is this supposed to be?" Harry asked.

"From Fred and George," Ron explained. "It's they're handwriting. And who else would name themselves Wheeze and Mischief?"

"I'm guessing Check is Ron," Hermione put in. "A reference to chess. Unfortunately, I'm willing to bet I'm Beaver."

"And I'm Purveyor," Harry amended, Ron and Hermione giving him a knowing look. "Which leaves Ginny to be Rosie."

"They used to cal her that, on account of the first time Bill took her on a broom and she was so excited she toppled off into the rose bushes and got all cut up. She wouldn't go near it for two years, convinced it was attacking her." Ron smiled.

"Bumblebee is Dumbledore and I'm guessing L. Moldy is Voldemort. I'll give it to Ginny," Hermione offered, grabbing it back from Harry and heading off. "See you in Defense!"

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

The first week of school went by quickly and soon, Harry found himself heading out to the quidditch pitch early Saturday morning. He found a large congregation of Gryffindors on the field already. Luna Lovegood and Susan Bones stood outside the entrance, fending off the other houses, apparently on Ginny's orders. Hermione bid Ron and Harry good-bye and went to spell-record the try-outs for later. Harry quickly changed into his quidditch robes, ignoring Ron's stormy face as he did so. It was going to be a long season.

Katie and Ginny were off to the side talking as everyone else flew about for a warm-up. Ron and Harry headed over. Ginny refused to address Ron and barely looked at him, referring to him only as Keeper. "Okay, well, I'm a Chaser now, since Harry's our seeker and he's back on the team. So that means we only need one new Chaser. Kirke and Sloper are in a detention with Snape at the moment, but they'll be down here in an hour. I've also decided to train up a reserve Chaser, so we don't need try-outs next year to replace Katie. And I swear to Merlin, Ronald, I will kick you off this team if you don't listen to me." The last part was added in a quick breath and Ginny screwed her eyes up as she said it.

Ron didn't say anything to her, simply gave her a chastised glare. "Can we get going?" Ginny glared back at him, ignoring his question.

"Now, Dean's trying out and he's my boyfriend, and I don't want anyone claiming I'm biased if he gets on. This means that when it comes to Dean, Katie gets the final decision of whether or not he's on the team. We already went over everything else, so mount up." Ron and Katie immediately took to the sky ground all the hopefuls. Harry lingered back as Ginny let out a long breath.

"How'd I do?" she asked shakily.

"Perfect," Harry murmured. "I told you, you can do this. You're already as good as Wood." Ginny grinned thankfully at him and followed the other two into the air, Harry just behind her.

The team rounded up all the potentials and had them form a line facing Ginny. She quickly explained the try-outs to them before setting them into a circle and having them toss the quaffle back and forth as a warm up. This soon disintegrated as two fourth years began throwing the ball in wild directions so they're opponents couldn't catch them. It came to a head as the quaffle nearly took the head off of Hermione, who was reading a book in the stands. Ginny immediately ordered the two off the field and gave a seething lecture to the remaining ten.

Two hours later, a drizzle began to fall over the field as the potentials all huddled under the stands while the team debated the try-outs in the locker room. Hermione was sitting on the floor with a candle in front of her, adding a spectator's input. Harry sat on a bend across from Ginny who was seated on the other. Ron sat with a leg hanging off Harry's bench, Kirke and Sloper resting against the benches, and Katie next to Ginny.

"Willy's a nice guy and he's good," Katie said, "But he's a seventh year. He'd have to leave next year."

"But he's better than any of the others," Ron insisted.

"Dean's just as good as him," Harry argued. Ron shot him a look of betrayal. "Ron, just because he's-"

"Dating Ginny," Ron finished mockingly. "Doesn't mean I should be mean to him."

"I agree with Ron," Sloper said, cowering at Ginny's sharp look. "I meant about Abignail, not about you dating Thomas!"

"Katie's right," Kirke insisted. "Abignail's going to leave next year."

"But he's better than Dean!" argued Ron.

"Ron's right," Ginny said. "Abignail is the better chaser, but we do need to consider that he's seventh year."

"You could train two reserves," Hermione suggested. She blew out her candle. Harry thought that this had been the obvious solution all along.

"I concur," Harry said immediately.

"So we'd put Abignail on as a chaser, with Dean as our first reserve. And then who else?" Ginny asked.

"What about Bethany Gray?" Katie put in. "She's a great shot. You'll just have to work hard on her receiving for next year."

"And we need to improve Dean's broom handling," Ginny added absently. "Abignail needs to get hit by the bludgers a few more times before he'll remember to watch out for them. Us chasers need to work on our patterns, Ron needs to focus on confidence, Harry needs anger management-"

"What!" cried Harry.

"We can't have you get kicked off again for losing it," Ginny said irritably. "We're working on our faults, you're going to be concentrating on anger management. And improving your skills, but to be quite honest, you're the best member of this team. As long as you're on it." Harry huffed indignantly but as he couldn't exactly find anything to disagree with, he sank back and crossed his arms.

The team trooped out of the room and over to the group that had tried out. After announcing that they'd be posting the results after dinner, all the Gryffindors headed back to the castle, leaving behind Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Susan.

"How have you been Susan?" Harry asked, Ron and Hermione hovering about him.

"As well as I can be," she replied with a watery smile. "Dumbledore came to Mum's funeral, said something quite nice. I'm better off than Aunt Mia. She blames herself."

"It's Voldemort's fault," Harry said sharply. Susan flinched ever so slightly. Hermione cast a glance at Harry, rather reminiscent of a mother trying to teach her child a lesson about life. He shot her a glare in return, hoping she understood he got her point.

"I can't wait until he's dead," Susan said viciously. She may as well have been speaking in parseltongue. They stood solemnly for a moment, each reflecting on whatever they thought of the war. Harry's thoughts drifted to Sirius and from there to Occlumency. He wondered just how awfully it would hurt his pride to ask for Snape's tutelage. Imagining the scene, Harry winced, deciding maybe that wasn't such a brilliant idea.

"We'd better go back up to the school," Hermione said after their melancholy moment.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Harry impatiently shifted from one foot to the other as the team stood around the common room, waiting for everyone to quiet down. The pale faces of all those who tried out were seen in various spots around the room. Willy Abignail looked as though he were going to pass out. That didn't promise well for how he'd be before their first match in November.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Harry heard Ginny mutter to herself. "OY! SHUT THE HELL UP!" The common room instantly fell silent as Ginny simmered down immediately and a pleased grin spread across her face. "Thank you. Everyone who came out for the team did a really good job, but we're only picking one chaser and two reserves." A few of the hopefuls brightened at the pleasant change in numbers. "Right so, our new starting chaser is going to be Willy Abignail. And our reserves are Dean Thomas and Bethany Gray. I want the three of you to meet me on the pitch tomorrow for our own special training session."

Ginny hopped down off the table looking quite proud of herself. Dean was grinning ear to ear and gave her a very happy kiss. Harry couldn't help but feel like gagging. He glanced around, wondering where Ron was to not be punching the snot out of Dean. Over in the corner, Ron was sprawled in a fluffy armchair reading a long roll of parchment. Hermione, Harry found on the floor next to the fire, was reading a large book on researchers. Settling down next to her, he took out a leather-bound volume on Occlumency, knowing that without its title emblazoned on the front, no one would guess what it was.

"What's that?" asked Hermione, without taking her eyes off the pages before her.

"Remedial Potions," Harry said casually. The book fell into the girl's lap from shock.

"You've got Remedial Potions again this year?" she asked.

"Nope," Harry said. "But thought I'd keep working at it on my own."

"Who wrote it?" Hermione leaned over to have a look.

"Our favorite teacher," Harry muttered. He turned to the first page where, in true Snape fashion, the professor's name was in elegant script beneath the title. It was just like the potions master to keep the cover a plain black. All in all, Harry was proud of himself for managing to buy the book. The thing was written by a man he despised and here he was acting all grown–up by reading it. Hermione's face showed how clearly impressed she was. As she began to tell him just that, the voice of Ginny Weasley cut through the buzzing room like a knife through butter.

"I can't believe you!" The two quickly looked over to Ginny, who stood glowering at Ron, the parchment he'd been reading crumpled in her fist. "Percy, Ron. PERCY!"

Ron, for his part, looked a mild bit sheepish but a great deal more angry. "Give it back, Ginevra."

"I don't think I will, Ronald Bilius," Ginny snapped. "After everything that pompous ass has done to us, to Harry, to MUM! How can you be writing to him!"

"I'm not," Ron defended, making a snatch for the parchment. Ginny stormed over to the fire and threw it in. "GINNY!" The entire common room was silent, watching the brother and sister fight.

"What do you think Fred and George are going to say? I hope Mum and Dad disown you for this!"

"It's not like they've disowned Percy," Ron muttered. Ginny balled her fists, glare intensifying. "And would you calm down. I'm not writing to Percy!"

"Then how, exactly, did you acquire a ten-foot parchment from him?" snarled Ginny nastily. "I fail to see how this could have occurred."

"Maybe, if you'd stop jumping to conclusions-"

Ginny's full, sarcastic laugh boomed across the room. "That's rich, coming from you. I don't know how you look at yourself in the mirror every morning. You're despicable." Ginny pulled her fist back to punch her brother and at this point, Harry decided he'd better intervene.

The two were conveniently placed in front of him and he swung up easily to calmly wrap his hand around her fist and pull it down as she made to swing. Hermione shrieked, springing up and pointing her wand between them.Pushing off of Harry, Ginny stormed from the room with a flurry of rage, not bothering to spare a glance back at them. Dean sat looking after her for a good few minutes before Neville poked him into bolting out of the portrait in pursuit of his girlfriend.

Hermione summoned what remained of the parchment from the fire. Only a small bit lingered, most having gone up immediately. She study the writing, her eyes darting to Ron with betrayal shining in them. "You really were writing to Percy," she accused.

Ron snatched the small stack of palm-sized pieces. He stuffed them into his pocket. "You wouldn't get it," Ron said, his voice holding no anger, no regret. It was as simple as if he were telling them that it had rained the other night.

"Then maybe you'll dine to explain it," Hermione said, arms crossed stubbornly. Harry couldn't take his eyes off Ron. Guilt wracked his eyes but he held himself in firm determination.

"Leave him be, Hermione," Harry said, taking in the eyes off the rest of their housemates. A group of third and forth year girl stood clustered on their dormitory stairs, the seventh year boys mirroring them on the other side. "Ron can tell us what he wants when he wants to." Despite his best efforts, Harry couldn't keep the hurt from his voice. He'd just told Ron and Hermione his deepest secrets and here Ron was telling them he didn't trust them.

Ron looked as though he'd break, but shook his head and followed the suit of his sister and fled the common room. Harry sat back down and opened his book, trying to duplicate a complicated breathing pattern Snape described in the book.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

The rest of the month was spent with Weasley staring matches at every meal, tense quidditch practices under sudden damp, cold conditions, and an uncomfortable feeling of guilt between the three best friends. Ron still had not explained his spontaneous renewal of contact with his estranged brother and was now known to vanish one night a week with no explanation while Hermione went to tutor in the library and Harry attended his Light Arts course.

Having applied to the cooking course in order to help with potions, Harry had been assigned to the dance class, much Ron's amusement. Hogwarts offered an assortment of courses in things such as orchestra, band, and writing, that were given the name of Light Arts. A teacher headed each course and they were offered at night. Courses were selected around quidditch practices and other clubs. Due to the fact that they were, indeed, much more like clubs than anything, their numbers were kept to capacity unique to every group. Cooking class contained a great number of seventh years, so many sixth years had been assigned to different Light Arts. Being the only one of the three to sign up for any Light Arts, Harry was subjected to much torture on the part of Ron and Hermione.

The fact that Susan Bones was in the class with him made it an even trade though.

After a week of denial, Harry admitted to himself that he was attracted to the brilliant teenager. They had most of their classes together, being that they were both heading for the same career out of Hogwarts. Susan had been looking better and better since her return, eyes less red from lack of sleep, smiles more often, thought still far and few between.

Harry's dance class had turned out to be a vigorous work-out. They began each lesson with strengthening one part of their bodies. The first time Harry had returned to the dorms with a rather sore stomach from repeated curl-ups. Where he had expected to find frilly ballet dancing (Hannah Abbott had glared ferociously at him when he'd commented, then gone on a tangent about the strength of dancers) he was pleasantly surprised with a young woman from Hogsmeade that was teaching them "hip-hop." Hannah just called it Modern Dance.

Two weeks before October began, the murder of a muggle was headline for _The Daily Prophet_. The unfortunate curator was murdered at the London Mueseum. And on the final day of September, a wizard was found dead in his library in the Scottish countryside, stabbed to death though the Dark Mark had loomed over his house when his girlfriend had returned from Paris.

It was for this reason that Harry stood outside the gargoyle to Dumbledore's office. He was running through possible passwords and nearly felt like giving up when the statue moved aside. Professor Snape, tall, dark, and menacing as ever, glared with hatred at him as he passed. Not missing his opportunity, Harry dashed up the revolving steps to the office.

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore's tired voice called. The Headmaster sat stroking Fawkes, whose feathers were just beginning to dim as he prepared for burning day. "How may I be of assistance?"

"The murder of that wizard, Sheldon Dragonbane, it's not Voldemort's style," Harry said, getting straight to the point. He began pacing. "What else do you know about it?"

"They found no weapon," Dumbledore informed him. "The Aurors were kind enough, however, to bring to my attention that only one wizard apparated into that building, though several were present due to the signs of Dragonbane's struggles. There was also someone else's blood spilt that night." Harry turned, considering. He knew who it had to be, though he desperately wished there were some other explanation.

"I have been meaning to talk to you about extra lessons." Harry raised his brow. "Every Sunday, Harry, you and I will meet here for extra training on your part. Is seven all right with you for this week?"

Harry had half a mind to protest, but with a glare and a nod, he agreed. "Most excellent. If you'll excuse me then, my boy, the Wizengambot has been asked to inform our dear minister that he's to be replaced. Daresay you've read the rumors in the Prophet. A great deal must be done. We must contact the muggle Minister immediately. Till Sunday then."

Harry paused at the door. "It hasn't changed," Harry said, making it plain that things were not set right between them.

"Will you never forgive me Harry?" Dumbledore pleaded softly. Harry turned back, willing his mentor to understand. "I do truly care for you."

"It has never been about whether or not I will forgive you. You have never asked." Leaving the man to ponder for once, Harry made his exit, thinking darkly of the Dimukai elves and the portal pendant weighing heavily on his neck.

* * *

A/N I was analyzing the prophecy, and I was thinking. That whole marking thing could mean Death Eater's mark. And approaching could have meant Voldemort's eaves dropper, listening in on the conversation. And we all know who that was. Anyway, I still think that it means Harry, but that thought occurred to me and I thought I'd share it.

I never said Snape was evil in canon. I am withholding judgment at the moment. However, many people will believe he is and many will believe he isn't. I don't want anyone flaming me because I've made him good in this story and they say he's got to be evil. I like Snape's character. He's not evil in this, and as it's fanfiction, however he is in canon doesn't really pertain to this. I could make Tonks evil and you'd all just have to get over it. She's not though. She's good in the story.

**_! SPOILER ! For LoT (this story)_**

The final pairing for Harry in this story will be H/G. He will have other girlfriends though.

* * *


	8. The Index of Wizards

**Chapter Eight : **

_The Index of Wizards_

"Ron, you're going to make the poor thing explode!" Harry glanced over to Ron and Hermione, sitting at the table next to him and Justin Finch-Fletchly. Professor McGonagall was circling the room, trying to stop students from causing their owls to blow up. The N.E.W.T. Transfiguration class was preparing to transfigure do human transfigurations by changing one animal into another. It was quite simple now for them to go between living and nonliving states. However, working to rearrange organs and bones was much harder than Harry had anticipated. Justin cursed vehemently as their owl bit him.

Harry was certain that he'd made a mistake when picking his career, because if classes kept on going the way they were, he was sure that all the pressure would make his break. Between trying desperately not to get kicked out of Snape's potions class and his vain efforts at understanding the concept of object animation for Flitwick, Harry couldn't find time to schedule the first DA meeting, let alone get down to see Hagrid. The half-giant hadn't crossed their paths in weeks. It just didn't seem like the school year had truly started, without their trips to his hut.

Harry couldn't have been more relieved when the bell rang, dismissing them for lunch. Ron and Hermione quickly caught up with him in the hall, having to stay behind to receive a lecture from McGonagall on the proper voice volume for her class. They headed straight down to Hagrid's, where they could see him closing something, undoubtedly a rabid animal, into a crate equipped with large air holes.

"Hagrid!" Hagrid, after glancing up and seeing them, lit up like Christmas had come early. He waved them over, clearly intending to show them his new pet.

"This here is a chimera," Hagrid said proudly, gesturing to the shaking crate. A snarl sounded, causing Ron and Harry to exchanged alarmed looks.

"How did you get a hold of one, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, apparently giving up on attempting to stop his habit of acquiring dangerous beasts.

"Got a permit from the Ministry o' Magic," Hagrid declared. "This beaut 'ere came all the way from Greece." Turning to Harry, he explained, "Chimeras have a lion's 'ead, a goat's body, and a dragon's tail." Harry was itching to look at it, despite all of his impulses screaming danger.

Hagrid invited them in for tea before he could ask. They sat around the large table, drinking tea and slipping rock cakes into their bags, which they never visited without. "So, what're ye doin after school, 'ermione?"

"I've decided to become a Researcher. I figured I'd start out full time and maybe later, after the war, work that as a side job. I really want to get into rights for part-humans and other magical species. The Ministry is just horrid with their laws. Not to mention the mistreatment of those poor house-elves!"

"I've gotten into Snape's potions class. He's not too pleased, but it means I can be an auror," Harry said, cutting off Hermione's elf-rights rampage. Both Ron and Hagrid looked a little relieved at his timely statement. Hermione was brilliant to be with, but when it came to house-elves, things were much better with a change of topic.

"And Ron?"

"Ron? He's hasn't got a plan." Harry wondered if Hermione realized how completely tactless she was sometimes.

"Excuse me, Hermione," Ron burst in indignantly. "I do so have a plan!"

"Oh really?" Hermione clearly didn't believe him.

"Why do you think I've been meeting with Professor McGonagall every week?" he snapped furiously. Silence held, Hermione absolutely stunned. Harry, too, was shocked to discover where Ron had been going all those nights.

"Now then, you all get comfertable. I've got some stew. I wanta hear all bou' yer classes. And, o'course, Ron's career," Hagrid said.

Hagrid filled his monster-sized bowls from a large kettle over his fire. Harry was taken aback to find that the stew was actually quite good. All attention shifted to Ron as they waited expectantly. Red began to show on the tips of his ears.

"It's why I owled Percy," Ron said meekly. This took a few moments to explain to Hagrid. "It took a while for him to answer. I sent it back at Grimmauld Place. After you disappeared, Harry, Kingsley was so shaken up he was off-shift for a week or two. He came over to play chess with me. He's real good. I haven't had a game that hard since first year. He's beaten me a fair few times." Harry recalled, vaguely, that he and Kingsley had talked about Ron's affinity for chess on the day Kilarati and Atonics had kidnapped him.

"Yer gonna play professional chess?" Hagrid asked, confused.

"Er, not exactly," Ron went on. "We got to talking about strategy. He was telling me about how useful a talent for chess is when you plan strategies for battle. They have these jobs in the auror department called strategists. They come up with auror training patterns and ideas for battle. Usually they're former aurors or ones discharged with injuries."

"Ron, that's a brilliant career!" Harry exclaimed. He could just see Ron spending hours devising patterns of attack. If only he and Ginny would patch it up. Then he could help with quidditch formations.

"But no one's ever become a strategist without being an auror. I liked the idea of using strategy though, so I looked into it, in some of the books of Sirius's library." He cast a furtive glance at Harry as he mentioned the name. "I read all about lawyers and how they use strategy to cross-reference and make judges and juries and people see a guilty man. I got to thinking about how Sirius never got a trial and how if he'd had one, that he'd have needed a good lawyer to present his case and stuff. I owled Percy for information on ministry lawyers."

"Wow, Ron," Hermione said, clearly regretting her earlier comments. Harry hoped that Ron knew she was just worried for his future. By the look of it, Ron did. He was blushing fiercely, looking down at his hands, mumbling about how it was no big deal. Harry smiled, looking at his friends. There were some things in this world that just wouldn't change. Even with war upon them, Ron and Hermione were still the same with each other. He wondered how long it would be before they'd just own up to their feelings.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

That night at dinner, hundreds of owls swarmed overhead as the treacle tart appeared. In front of every single student a special Daily Prophet Bulletin was dropped. With fingers trembling in anticipation, Harry lifted it up, a smile spreading his lips as he saw the headline.

_**So Long Fudge**_

**It is the great pleasure of the _Daily Prophet_ to inform all of its loyal readers that Minister Fudge is Minister of Magic no more. After a long Wizengamot debate, it was decided that Fudge was to be removed from his position immediately for failure to protect the magical people of Britain in the return of the Dark Lord. In further, our former minister also denied his return, despite the tale coming from the mouth of the Boy-Who-Lived, supported by the renowned Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.**

**Election of the new Minister will take place in two weeks time. Until then, Madame Amelia Bones steps in to fill the job. She has also been nominated as a candidate, along with Mr. Amos Diggory, Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Mr. Arnold Scrimgeour. In the very first pole for the impending election, Mr. Diggory is in the lead among Ministry members. This, we believe, is due largely to the fact that he has recently lost his son's life to the hands of You-Know-Who. It is expected to come down to Mr. Scrimgeour and Ms. Bones.**

**Albus Dumbledore had this to say upon the matter, "All of the candidates are extremely capable leaders. It is now a matter of how the wizarding community wishes to fight the war with the Dark Lord. Each of these fine wizards will lead in a different fashion. Let us analyze what our situation calls for, and from that point, let us decide upon our minister."**

**Fudge has been asked to stay on as an advisor for the new minister and assist Ms. Bones until said minister's election. It is also rumored that Fudge is acting as liaison between the muggle minister and the magical society. If this is indeed so, we expect an election for Muggle Liaison to directly follow the election of Minister of Magic.**

Harry looked as though he'd just received a car for his birthday. Hermione and Ron, looked just as excited as him. "Imagine Kinsley as minister!" Ron said, laughing. Harry couldn't help but smile. It was tradition for an auror to be nominated, though none had ever won. Truly, Harry hoped that either Bones or Diggory would win, though he had more faith in the skills of Madame Bones, and Cedric being the reasoning behind it.

"You realize what this means, don't you?" Hermione asked.

"No more Fudge!" Ron cried gleefully. Hermione shot him a cross look.

"Ron, it means that Voldemort will be planning to attack while we're most vulnerable. I'll be much more at ease when this election is over," she said, looking very worried indeed. And as she said it, Harry, too, felt unease spread through him. Voldemort would most assuredly be planning now.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Harry braced himself as the stairs to Dumbledore's office brought him nearer and nearer to the door. It was his first Sunday lesson and he wasn't looking forward to it. There was no way for him to know what Dumbledore had thought about their last conversation, and to be honest, he didn't really want to know.

"My boy, we won't accomplish anything with you standing out there all night," Dumbledore's voice said from behind the door. Harry blushed, walking inside.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk in bright green robes and a dark purple pointed hat littered with twinkling stars. The man really was a sight to behold. Harry shook his head in amusement.

"These lessons will mainly be for you to gain the upper hand on Voldemort," Dumbledore said flatly, not skirting the issue. "With all the adventures you and your friends get into, I think it would be wise that they also gain additional training. But I will not be the one to provide it. It is up to you."

"I don't want them any more involved in this then they've already become," Harry said firmly. Dumbledore didn't respond for a few moments, bright blue eyes watching Harry closely.

"Harry, you never liked being left in the dark about things. And you have always made up your own mind about what you will do. Do not believe that you are the only one who thinks for himself. It is not up to you whether or not Ron and Hermione will fight Lord Voldemort. All that is in your hands is what knowledge that you acquire here will be knowledge they also gain." Dumbledore gave him a long look; the one that never ceased to make Harry feel like the headmaster was looking directly into his soul.

"Now then, we are going to begin with the slight problem that is already before us." Harry looked around, expecting to see a Deatheater or a parchment filled with Voldemort's devious schemes. He realized, later, that this was an absurd idea. "I ask that you forgive me for all I have put you through. I knew what you faced, living with Petunia and her husband. Perhaps I am even responsible for allowing Sirius to be imprisoned all those years. I am not perfect, Harry. But I have always tried to do what is right for you."

"I know," Harry said softly, not looking up at his mentor. "I hate the Dursleys. I figured I had a relatively normal childhood, only then I started to figure out that it wasn't normal for a kid to sleep in cupboard under the stairs." Dumbledore narrowed his eyes.

"A cupboard?" he inquired.

"That's where my first letter was addressed to," Harry said. "You had to have known." It was one of the things that was particularly angering Harry.

"Hogwarts letters are written by the headmaster and the supplies list is written out by the deputy," Dumbledore explained. "However, we do not address them, nor do we choose who receives them. The name of every magical child born is recorded in what is called The Index of Wizards. Those who are eligible to attend Hogwarts are recorded on the Scroll of Hogwarts by Lady Ravenclaw's Quill. Where these items reside, no one knows for sure. There are a great many tales floating about. The headmaster only knows what their predecessor tells them and what Hogwarts herself lets them know. Alas, I've strayed from my point again. You see, Harry, while I write the letters to all my students, they disappear after I sign them with my official title. What I do know is that the inkpot all headmasters use is filled with magical ink that is tied to Lady Ravenclaw's quill. It calls the letters to it. It is the quill that writes in the name of all the students and addresses their envelopes to such specification. No other wizard letters are addressed quite so specifically. And the quill does not rest until each letter has been received in full form, which is why Hagrid was eventually sent to deliver your letter."

"But how do you know who your students are to be?" Harry asked.

"The Scroll of Hogwarts appears in my office every year without fail. It returns with the addressed letters in seven neat stacks, one for every year. We have owls waiting that take them immediately. I place the Scroll next to the Sorting Hat until the sorting. And after acceptances return, I give each professor a list of their students."

"Where in Merlin's name could that book be hiding?" Harry asked. He shuddered, picturing the Dark Lord crossing out each name as he killed them, marking his followers with a little serpent and all those who opposed them with a red x. He would know who every muggle born child was. It would be only too easy for him to kill off a little baby in a hospital to rid the wizarding world of their dirty blood.

"That is one of things we must discuss," Dumbledore said solemnly. "It has come to my attention that Voldemort is seeking not only the Index of Wizards, but also the Black Books and the Books of the Living and Dead. The Black Books, if you will recall from history of magic, contain the ancient forms of forbidden magics."

"Ancient forms?" Harry asked, feeling entirely lost. "To be honest, all I ever learned from History of Magic was about goblin rebellions."

"A very useful bit of knowledge," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Long ago, Harry, when the founders began Hogwarts and the common tongue was Anglo-Saxon, the practices of ancient magic were just beginning to fade. Hogwarts was the very last wizarding school to convert to the use of wands. Ancient magic was usually performed wandlessly. Alongside the classes we still offer, there was Ritual, Dark Arts, and Weapons. The spells we use today were used then as well, but performed with out the focus point of a wand. Beginning was much harder, as such, but the results were much more gratifying.

"Ritual was eliminated from the schedules when we converted, due to the necessity of wandless magic. They were most often group spells that have long since lost their place in wizarding society. The dark arts were just forms of black magic, a practice that was not frowned upon in those days, due to the severity of the forbidden magics. Those magics, Harry, are the core of evil. There is no good that will come of them. Many of the rules of alchemy stem from the forbidden magics. You cannot use those magics without giving something. There are spells to bring forth tsunamis and earthquakes, but every time one is used, somewhere on earth, an even greater thing is lost."

"So, they're disaster spells?" Harry asked.

"Not entirely," Dumbledore replied. "Among the forbidden magics were practices to anchor souls to different objects after death, spells to grant immortality, ways to raise loved ones from the dead. They were forbidden because of the law of magical balance. Most of our spells nowadays are basic, they cause no great alteration in the world, do not defy the laws of existence. The forbidden magics would cause the scale to tip and according to the law of balance, which states that all things that exist must have a counter, something must cancel out the magic performed. For every tsunami there was a drought that lasted for years."

"Then what is it that balances out all the evil Voldemort does?" asked Harry bitterly, fists curled into a ball.

"The law of balance is a law because it is always true," Dumbledore said softly. "Lord Voldemort is balanced by you, Harry, his evil by your good, his weakness by your strength. And as with all balances, they sometimes naturally tip in favor of one side or the other."

"Then who is your balance? And Snape's? Or Ron's?"

"You already know the name of my balance. Dremidydd Grindelwald and he was once my best friend," the headmaster told him evenly. Harry felt his jaw drop in shock. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he gave a smile. "It is something they usually leave out of the history books. Dydd and I went to Hogwarts together. But that is a story for another time. Everyone has their balance, even Professor Snape and Ronald Weasley. It is just that ours were obvious, whereas some people will never even meet their balance. I believe, however, that Miss Granger may well be Mr. Weasley's counter. You will find that there are certain things that remain the same between us and our opposites. However, it is entirely possible that young Mr. Malfoy is Ron's complementary person. There are a great many things that must be different between partners."

Harry was a bit put out by Dumbledore's wording, having gotten a very different mental picture than Dumbledore had meant. One he found a bit disturbing, in fact. Dumbledore seemed to catch on to this, giving a smile of remorse. "Ah, yes, I forget now and again that 'queer' has an entirely new meaning these days. I only meant for you to realize that these balances are two pieces of a whole, a set of partners in the most platonic sense of the word. I highly doubt you'd have found our dear Professor Lupin and your late godfather sharing a bed for late night trysts." Harry gagged, giving his headmaster a look of loathing.

"You play off the minds of teenagers on purpose, don't you?" Harry asked.

"It is quite amusing," Dumbledore agreed. "Sherbet lemon drop?"

"And how would you even know who they were shagging, anyhow?" Harry asked curiously, taking one of the offered candies.

"Students always seem to underestimate what we old, wrinkled professors know about their after-hour activities. We are not so old we have forgotten lust." Maybe, Harry decided, this conversation should have been ended a few implications ago. "Sirius never did suspect I knew all about Amelia. And Remus is under the most adorable persuasion that everyone thinks he's as straight as an arrow."

"Remus is gay?" Harry asked, taken by surprise.

"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "He finds both sexes quite appealing, if memory serves me correctly." Harry rose an eyebrow.

"I'll remember this for the future," Harry said.

"Why, Merlin's beard Harry, do you expect Miss Bones to be an easy conquest?" Harry's jaw dropped. He tried to say something, though he was not sure what, only to discover a series of odd grunts coming from his mouth.

"No," he finally managed. Knowing their conversation had gotten onto firmly uncomfortable ground, Harry changed back to their original topic. "So Voldemort wants to get the Black Books to perform rituals and take out our armies. He wants the Books of the Living and Dead for what?"

"The Books of the Living and Dead are African magics and reside somewhere in the tombs of Egypt. No one knows where they are or what they contain. Hundreds of myths have been made as to what they can do. It is an unknown power, but one that is most surely great and Voldemort will do anything to have these powers."

"How are we supposed to stop him if we don't know where they are?" Harry asked.

"The Order is doing research, trying to find all the locations ever mentioned for any of these books. We will take our steps from there. For now, I do not want you to worry. Voldemort does not know their locations either, of that we are sure," Dumbledore said with an air of calm that Harry didn't quite believe. His voice was just a little too steady, his small smile a little too fixed. "Now then, I have a campaign to do, so we'd best get to it."

"Campaign?"

"I am assisting Madame Bones in her bid for minister. Behind the scenes of course, as it is much too early after the ministry's scorn for me to be on good terms with anyone running," the wizard explained in a very diplomatic answer. "You are going to learn everything I can tell you about young Mr. Riddle. Because to defeat your enemy, you must understand them better than anyone else. I had the advantage of a great history with Dydd- Grindelwald."

"Are we going to use a pensive?" Harry felt like all he did was ask questions.

"Later," Dumbledore said. "I have collected the memories of a few muggles who knew Tom long before I did, when he was a mere boy. You will see those next time. Today, I want you to understand the history of Slytherin's line. It is not entirely Tom's fault that he is how he is. There is a reason why first cousins, even more so in the wizarding world, are not allowed to marry or reproduce. Genes will be corrupted due to laws of genetics. The most severe issue, though, is the overlapping of magic. Reproducing with relatives too closely related to you will cause your magic to spoil, a discovery that was not made until far too long after the Slytherin line had inbred on many occasions."

Dumbledore cleared off his desk with a flick of his wrist and opened a draw. From within it, he retrieved a large piece of folded parchment. Once spread out, it took up nearly the entire expanse of the desk. Dumbledore muttered a string of spells, tapping and waving and swishing different patterns over the map. Slowly, like on the Marauder's map, ink of different colors began to trace their way on the page. Harry was blinded by a mass of deep green lines, nearly black, many intertwining time and time again. Other colors ties in here and there. A few spots drew his attention. Near to what Harry assumed was the top, a bright red line tie into the green, lines not extending further.

Names soon followed the ink, written in black. Harry saw at the top, in large elegant lettering, the name _Salazar Slytherin_. Next to it, slightly smaller, was scripted _Ophelia Slytherin_. "The Slytherin family tree," Harry said in awe. He ran his fingers gently over the parchment, tracing the lien of Salazar's eleven children. Lines came together soon after being separated, and Harry understood what Dumbledore was saying. There were at least forty places where first cousins had married, though mainly it was the end of their lines, children dying at early ages from what Harry assumed was genetic complications.

Looking back to the red line, Harry realized why there were no children recorded after it. Slytherin's only daughter, _Freya Lysandra Slytherin_'sline was met by _Avery Edred Gryffindor_. "Gryffindor?"

"No one is privy to these lineage maps but the headmasters of Hogwarts. There is one for each founder. Only headmasters are aware of why there was a split in the houses. Slytherin had promised his daughter to a wealthy king, but when she met Gryffindor's second son, Avery, they fell in love and pleaded to be allowed to marry. Gryffindor was more than willing to allow it. It took some time, but Ravenclaw agreed to have her middle daughter, who had been promised to Avery, give her hand to one of his younger brothers. Hufflepuff had always supported true love. Slytherin was adamant in Freya's marriage to the king, and so Avery and Freya eloped. When they returned and Slytherin found out what they had done, he was furious. Combined with all the other tense matters between the founders, everything came to a head and Slytherin and Gryffindor ended up in a furious duel."

"Wow," Harry said, running his fingers down the map. He saw the name Potter tied to a daughter a few generations down and the name Weasley thrown in towards the middle a few times. "Why doesn't everyone know about it?"

Dumbledore looked far away for a moment, as though remembering something from long ago. Harry jumped, as the answer came from behind him. "The remaining founders believed it was no one's business but their own. Sometimes I agree, and sometimes I do not." The Sorting Hat was sitting on a shelf next to the door, rim ripped open as he spoke.

"What are you doing back there?" Harry asked.

"I find that a change in scenery does wonders for my imagination. Those songs are very hard work," the Hat explained. "Albus is kind enough to move me around occasionally. A new point of view shows you the world anew."

"Er, thanks," Harry said.

"You see how often Slytherin's decedents married each other?" Dumbledore traced a few lines where they married into each other, split for a distance and then combined again. "By the time Tom's grandfather was born, many of the branches had died. Their numbers grew smaller as they continued to fuse with each other."

Harry ran his fingers over _Tom Marvalo Riddle_. There was no Lord Voldemort under it, next to it, or anywhere on the map. "What you're saying is that because the family overlapped so many times, they all got physical complications and they were bitter people."

"Precisely. Everything muggles warn about is true for wizards. However, the magics of the family began to get testy. Tom's uncle and grandfather were extremely hostile and angry people, mainly because their magic itself was so feisty and unpredictable. Their constant inbreeding caused their magic to become nearly useless. Tom's mother was a near squibb, the magics so crossed."

"Does that mean that Voldemort was evil from birth?" Harry asked.

"It is not that cut and dry," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with regret. "Voldemort became evil all by himself. But our lesson is up for today, Harry. I must be off to meet with Madame Bones and you have a Potions essay to tend to. We will meet again in two days."

Harry took his dismissal and headed back to Gryffindor Tower, his mind heavy with thoughts of inbred magic. He wondered how it felt, to have magic so concentrated that it became hostile. Reaching out, he easily found his own magic. It was a trick he had learned one night in the dorms back at Matiku ver Amik. He had found his magical focus was just above his belly button, a globe of swirling warmth, gold, flicked with a majestic red and a rich purple.

"Password, dearie." Harry disconnected himself from his magic immediately at the Fat Lady's words. She was giving him a smile of a purely mother fashion.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said. "Just, well… er, polyjuice."

"Polyjuice it is," she said, swinging forward. Not bothering to respond, Harry went quickly through into the common room. The fire was nearly out, glinting on the face of the grandfather clock in the corner, and Harry realized that it was nearly midnight. Looking around the room, Harry spotted two third years near the small stairs that led up to Gryffindor's astronomy level, a small, raised balcony with a large telescope surrounded by heavily cushioned benches. Over on the couch by the fire, lay Ron and Hermione, dozing under a shared blanket that Harry recognized as on of Hermione's many, complete with the single flower outlines every now and then.

Quiet as a kitten, Harry walked up behind them and gently shook them awake. "No more muffins, mum," Ron grumbled, rolling over. Only there was no where to roll to, resulting in him tumbling from the couch, pulling the blanket and Hermione with him, waking her up in the process, and ending with a large heap on the floor and Harry laughing so hard, he flipped forward onto the couch.

"It's not funny, Harry," Hermione snapped, trying to disentangle herself from both Ron and the blanket, only succeeding in tangling them further. "Help!" Once Harry finally regained control on his laughter, the three of them sorted out the miscellaneous body parts and pulled the blanket safely from their limbs without further incident.

"How was it?" Ron asked, as they watched Hermione fold the blanket in a brisk manner.

"Interesting," was all Harry said. That is, until Hermione's glare prompted him to tell them, in a very hushed tone, with glances over at the third years who were seemingly oblivious to them, about what had happened to the Slytherin line's magic.

"The only reason Voldemort's magic is so powerful then, is because of his father," Hermione concluded immediately. "Being born from a near squibb and a muggle meant that the magic was diluted. It reduced the corruption."

"Because Voldemort isn't corrupted," Ron muttered sarcastically.

"That wasn't what I meant, Ronald."

Harry tuned out their bickering as he pondered Hermione's words. It was doubtful that Voldemort knew a great deal about his heritage. How he had even found out that he was Slytherin's heir was a mystery. The clock loudly chimed midnight, causing one of the third years to spill their ink and let out a large string of curses.

"_Scourgify_," Harry said, giving a casual flick of his wand, the ink vanishing from the table. "You're welcome," he replied to the thanks he received.

"We should head up to bed," Hermione announced regretfully. "I'll see you in the morning." She gave a wave and headed up to her dormitory. Harry might well have been a bobcat, with the sly grin he gave Ron, who watched her retreating form.

"Eyes in sockets, Ron," Harry said, leading the way up to their dormitory. Ron muttered something that Harry was quite sure he was glad he didn't hear. The light was still on when they went in, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were sitting on Dean and Neville's beds, talking.

"Where the ruddy hell have you been?" asked Dean as Harry sat himself on Dean's trunk, leaning back against the wall.

"You know, fighting dark forces," Ron said, ordering Neville to budge up.

"I was," said Harry, then lowered his voice in a dramatic whisper. "But Ron here, was busy cuddling up to Hermione."

"Oi!" Ron chucked Neville's pillow at him, which led to an all-out pillow fight, ending in a room full of feathers and no pillows. Laughing, they all collapsed on their beds, calling out loud good-nights and not bother with the candles before dropping off to sleep.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

"You don't think he'll make us have a chaperone, do you?" Neville asked. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean, Lavender, Seamus, Parvati, and Neville were walking in a large clump down the hallway to the Room of Requirement. Harry didn't respond, still reeling from the night before, when he had had his second meeting with Dumbledore.

They had began with looking at memories of a house, a process that Dumbledore assured Harry was very complex. Remus, Bill, and the newly inducted Fleur Delacour had just returned from the home where Voldemort's mother had lived, bringing with them a silver globe that gave off an eery light. Dumbledore had placed it inside the pensive and it had exploded, memories suddenly swirling about. Harry had then been instructed to stick his hand in and they were off.

It was a long night, his mind reeling from the scenes he had witnessed. Harry wondered if Voldemort knew how cruelly his grandfather had treated his mother; how his uncle had implied that he took advantage of her in a very, very disgusting fashion. He shuddered as he remembered the run-down house, the perfect view of the Riddle graveyard, seated atop a hill that brought far more irksome memories to surface.

"Harry?" He gave Hermione a reassuring smile, grasping the handle of the door and pulling it open to reveal the usual DA room. Hermione slipped past him and grabbed a large volume from one of the bookshelves and settled herself into one of the chairs to wait. From her bag she drew a long roll of parchment and her quill and ink.

"What are you up to?" Seamus asked, running his fingers over books, but directing his question at Hermione. It had only been Seamus's first meeting, the day Umbridge pulled the plug on the DA, because Seamus's mum had convinced him Dumbledore was lying. They'd finally made up after Dumbledore's "removal" from Hogwarts.

"This is an index of advanced defensive magics," Hermione informed him, not glancing up from her book, right hand moving furiously.

"How are we supposed to learn them?" Seamus asked. Dean snorted.

"Harry'll learn them," he said. "Then we will."

"Yeah, but I can't exactly teach myself," Harry put in. "I'll have to get a hold of Remus. Maybe he can drop by and give me a hand."

"Remus?" Lavender asked, the door opening for nearly the rest of the DA.

"Remus is here?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"Nope," Ron told her. She looked disappointed, seating herself next to Dean, who put his arm around her waist, giving a quick glance at Ron, who it seemed, had given up on his adamant kill-Dean campaign.

"Remus?" Zacharias Smith inquired.

"We might as well just wait until the entire DA is here, or that question is going to be repeated about thirty times," Hermione commented shrewdly, shooting a nasty look at Zacharias, who many of the Gryffindor members were hostile to on the basis he had always somewhat doubted Harry.

Eventually the entire DA was assembled, aside from Cho Change and Marietta Edgecombe. The door opened one last time and Cho slipped in. Before anyone could speak, and Harry could tell by the look on Hermione's face, she was well prepared, Cho began a small speech.

"I know what Marietta did was horrid, and she shouldn't have done it. And I know that you all are mad at me because I defended her and everything, but," Harry had this unshakable feeling that while her gaze was focused on her shoes, she was speaking directly at him. "I really would like to still be part of the DA. I thought a lot about it over the summer. You-Know-Who has to be stopped and I want to help. Even if it means that I spend hours upon hours with a bunch of people who hate me."

"Oi, can it," Ron snapped. "Harry?"

"You can stay," he said slowly. She let out a breath and moved to sit. "But you can't tell Marietta anything that happens here. At all. Not even if Ron gets possessed by a demon of fire and starts burning down the school. Whatever charm Hermione's put on that parchment, she's going to take Marietta off and so talking to her would be the same as anyone else not on it. I don't like that sneak and I don't trust her. She shouldn't have talked, you're right. I'm not playing games here. Voldemort is killing people again, and this is a war. You need to realize that some things are bigger than this school, and our ridiculous Ministry of Magic."

"Got it," Cho said, and when she looked at him, Harry couldn't help but think she was telling the truth. "And I apologize to the entire DA for bringing Marietta." There were reluctant nods around the circle.

"So, once again, who is Remus?" Zacharias demanded.

"Professor Lupin might a name you're more familiar with," Harry said, sliding onto a table in the circle.

"Lupin! How is he? Well, after everything that went down in second year, I suspect he's doing horrid-" Susan gently placed her hand over Colin's mouth, giving Harry a small grin.

"Remus is actually doing quite well," Harry said. "Or he was the last time I saw him."

"I thought I saw him here the other day," Padma Patil offered. "But he was so far away it might have been someone else."

"It was probably him," Harry said. "He had something for Dumbledore."

"When did you see him?" asked Justin.

"He stays at the same place we do for summer," Ginny said in a bored tone.

"Where?"

"Classified information, Mr. Thomas," Ginny teased. "It's a safe-house from Voldemort."

"Right, we had better get down to business, because we're not going to get to spells tonight. If you want to be able to review by next meeting, I'd stuff it," Ron said.

"Oh, very tactful," Ginny said. Ron glared fiercely at his sister. "Then again, you do take after Percy." Ron made a lunge for his sister, but Hermione stepped between them.

"Both of you knock it off," Hermione ordered, giving them each a withering look. Ron's eyes could burn holes clear through a dragon, with the look he was giving her. Ginny was fingering her wand, fury clear on her face.

"Our first order of business is new recruits," Harry said, mindful of the situation between the siblings as Hermione pushed Ron back to the table. "We lost Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina, and Lee. Unfortunately, we're saddled with Smith for another year." The half-joke broke the tension created by Ron and Ginny. "Well, and Edgecomb, but that's a different matter. Does anyone have anybody in mind?"

"My brother," Seamus said immediately. "He's all for it. Only, I think he's a little young to try and accomplish some of these spells, being a first year and all. I think we need to set a standard year."

"How does third year sound?" Harry asked. They all agreed. "Anyone else?"

"Yes, but you're not going to like it," Ginny said blandly. "Melinda Bobbin. She's a fourth year."

"And a Slytherin," Dennis Creevey added.

"Yes, that's true," Ginny said, bracing for an explosion. She got one. Ron went off immediately, and a good few people sat gaping at her. "I met her two years ago on a weekend in this little circle of bushes on the far side of the lake. We weren't wearing robes so we didn't know what house the other was in. She's really shy, and she's nice and hates Draco Malfoy about as much as Harry. Her father owns a string of apothecaries, and he's not a Deatheater."

"You never told us you were buddies with a Slytherin," Ron spat.

"Have you ever thought of judging someone past the crest on their robes, Ronald," Ginny returned. "You're so pig-headed and ignorant!"

"ENOUGH!" They fell silent, looking at Harry to diffuse their anger. "Look, Ginny, if you say she's nice, I believe you. But if the majority is uncomfortable with her being let in, then I have to say no. I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit wary of inviting a Slytherin in myself."

"Fine," Ginny huffed. "There's also Freya Bucklebee, she's a Hufflepuff in fourth year."

"Good. If you find anyone else, just tell Hermione, she's going to keep a list. The new members will be selected at our next meeting and then we'll hold three separate meetings with them so they'll be able to catch up with us.

"Next, we're going to have a talk about Lord Voldemort. Beginning with what he's up to. I've gotten permission from Dumbledore to tell you the basics of what's going on. It doesn't leave this room, got it? Voldemort is after the Black Books, only no one knows where they are. We don't know his plan as of yet, just his ultimate goal. He wants an army of living dead, the power to create natural phenomenon, and a few of the more gruesome rituals that are rumored to be in the books. And that's all we've got." Silence held as each person pondered the new bit of information.

"I have an idea," Hermione said eventually. "Dumbledore told us that we're an official Hogwarts club. We're going to register ourselves as Dumbledore's Army, but the headmaster is the only one who is privy to that particular bit of information. We'll be listed as the DA, a Defense Association you must be invited into. However, we need to list officers. Harry, obviously, ahs already been voted president."

"And I nominate Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley for co-vice-presidents," Harry interrupted promptly. "All in favor?" Every hand in the room rose immediately.

"Well, okay, so we need a secretary, a treasurer, a librarian, and a mediator," Hermione said. "We are also allowed to add any other chairs and give any special ranks as we see fit. Secretary nominations?"

"Ginny Weasley," Dean said.

"Bite me," Ginny replied. "If any of you vote for me, you'll meet my friendly bats. And I nominate Luna Lovegood."

"I accept," Luna said shyly, in a very non-Luna sort of way.

"Any others? No? All in favor of Luna? Luna it is," Harry said, going as quickly as possible. Hermione had informed him of exactly what he should do as president of the DA. "Treasurer nominations!"

"Ginny Weasley!" Dean yelled. This time she accepted.

"Anthony Goldstein," Padma nominated.

"All in favor of Anthony? All in favor of Ginny? Ginny is the new treasurer. Librarian?"

"What the hell do they do?" asked Terry Boot.

"They keep all of our official records sorted," Hermione explained.

"NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!" Seamus yelled enthusiastically.

"Neville?" Michael Corner said indignantly. Neville's absent-minded reputation proceeded him, it would seem.

"Obviously, you pillock, you never seen Nev's chocolate frog cards. They're really far too orderly, if you ask me," Seamus said.

"Are you drunk?" Lavender asked, poking him in the side.

"We did a bit of review on cheering charms before we came down," Dean said guiltily. Hermione and Susan rolled their eyes in unison. "He volunteered!"

"Right, well, all in favor of Neville? That's it, then. And lastly, nominations for mediator?"

"Mediators go between the school and the DA, right?" asked Susan. Harry nodded. "Harry."

"But I'm president," Harry protested.

"Actually, it's quite common for the president to be the mediator as well," Hermione said briskly. "All in favor of Harry? It's unanimous."

"You can't do that!" Harry argued.

"Whenever the president is in a position of bias on a very important matter, the vice-president takes over," Hermione informed him. Harry resisted the urge to poke out his tongue. "My cousin visited me this summer, and he's president of his high school's student council he's from America. We're going to run things here sort of like that. Any motion must be seconded and everything is voted on my the group, majority rule. The president has the power to veto and the vice has the power to veto the veto and return it to voting, at which point the president can call a debate before the revote. That's how inductions will work."

"And I say we have enough time to review disarming, so everyone partner up," Harry announced.

"I second!" Ginny cried enthusiastically.

"All chairs please stay after for a meeting," Hermione said as everyone broke off into pairs. She snatched Ron's hand and dragged him over to a corner where they immediately began disarming each other.

Harry circled the room, observing their skill, deciding no one had gotten rusty and that most had improved. He had them change to stunning spells, which were also going better than last year. By the end of the meeting, he was feeling confident about his agenda for the year. And once if came to light he had been with the elves, as he knew it would, if his hunches on just what the Dimukai and Voldemort were up to, he felt confident that they would learn the basics of physical defense by summer break. If they all lived that long.


	9. Erwin's Seven Tasks

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

_**- Harry Potter and the Library of Templar -**_

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

**Chapter Nine :**

_Erwin's Seven Tasks_

A loud wail resounded through Gryffindor Tower, and Harry bolted up in bed, hand scrambling under his pillow. Jumping out of bed and slipping his knife into his sleeve, Harry pounded down sets of stairs until he came to the fifth landing. The door was ajar, showing groggy second years sticking their heads out of red hangings. Cautiously, as dormitory doors opened and curious heads poked out, Harry leveled his wand in one hand and gave a sharp jab to the door, causing it to swing open. Much to his surprise, Harry found Professors, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick standing around a sobbing Euan Ambercrombie. McGonagall had her arms around him, apparently trying to comfort him.

Dumbledore turned, giving him a very clear look. Harry motioned all the boys out, and when none responded, he grabbed the nearest and gently, but firmly, escorted him from the room. The others followed. The door shut behind them and Harry was met with a cluster of boys on the stairs, all groggy, all DA wands at the ready. Below them stood a gaggle of girls headed by Hermione and Ginny.

"What is it, Harry?" Katie asked nervously.

"I think something happened to one of Abercrombie's parents," Harry replied. Faces relaxed instantly before they turned a guilty form of sad.

"Back to bed." Harry turned, surprised, to Ron, who stood just behind him, a very stern look on his face. A few looked about to protest, but Ron stopped them. "I won't have you lot pestering Euan. To your dorms. I don't care if you talk but get in a room. Now."

"Wow," Hermione said, as everyone obeyed, clearing out as though someone had spotted a deatheater.

"Us too," Ron added.

"I'm coming with," Hermione said. "We're not going to get any sleep. Well, I'm not, at least." Ron and Harry got approval from the other boys and the three headed into the sixth year dormitory.

Seamus hurriedly shoved on a pair of jeans, being in the habit of sleeping in his boxers. Harry was glad, for once, that he'd become accustomed to sleeping in Elvish sleep-ware, being completely respectable in tunic and loose fighting pants. Dean and Neville were anchoring their curtains back, settling on their beds with comforters wrapped around their bodies. Hermione sat herself on the end of Harry's bed, demanding a blanket.

"Isn't that yours Ron?" Dean asked, pointing to Hermione's shirt. Looking closely, Harry realized it was indeed Ron's from first year. Hermione blushed.

"Mrs. Weasley gave it to me this summer when all of my shirts were dirty," she muttered. A knock sounded at the door, which opened without hesitation and Ginny popped her head in.

"Ginny! It's not respectable for a girl to in the boy's dorms," Ron reprimanded. She just shot a meaningful look at Hermione before slipping over to Dean, who opened his blanket shelter for her. Hermione conjured a fire and they just sat in silence, finding comfort in their friends.

Another knock sounded, and whoever it was waited for an answer. Receiving the affirmative from Harry, Dumbledore opened the door, a grave look on his face. "Professor Dumbledore," Harry greeted. Dumbledore didn't seem the slightest surprised to find Hermione and Ginny in the room, though his did raise his eyebrows at Ginny and Dean's embrace.

"I assume you have all gathered that something has happened to young Mr. Abercrombie's family? His father and stepsister were murdered three hours ago by whoever it was that killed the curator." Harry's blood ran cold, a gasp of Elvish springing breathily from his lips. "Excuse me, I didn't catch that," Dumbledore said politely.

"How, er, how is he?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"How do you expect?" Seamus said, shivering. "If anything ever happened to my brother…." The statement hung heavily in the air, Ron and Ginny sharing their first cordial glance in weeks, both containing the same thought. Dean's arm tightened on Ginny. Harry couldn't help but steal a glance at Hermione, who was looking at him as well.

"I would like to see you in my office directly after breakfast, Harry." Dumbledore departed shortly after, to inform the other Gryffindors of the new loss.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Seamus said softly.

"For what?"

"Last year, and my mum and all," Seamus replied, downcast.

"I forgave you for that a long time ago," said Harry. "If… if I hadn't seen it, I don't think I would have wanted to believe it either."

"But you saw it, and it should have been enough for me," Seamus ground out.

"Gran once said that our best friends are the ones we fight with the most," Neville offered.

"Why's that?" Ginny asked.

"Because they mean the most to you," Ron answered.

"Balance," Harry said wryly.

There was nothing more they had to say and they sat there, looking at nothing in particular but finding comfort in each other's presence.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Dumbledore made an announcement that morning at breakfast to the rest of the school. They had thirty seconds of silence for Eaun's family before a muted talking began again. The Gryffindors were the grimmest of the bunch, all having heard Eaun's mournful cry the night before. The lot of them had circles under their eyes. No one had gotten sleep that night. His year mates looked the worst, having been sent to the common room to sleep.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class stood outside of the doorway, waiting for Professor Erwin to arrive. Five minutes late, she opened the door from inside. There was a sheen of sweat on the back of her neck, where a few fallen strands stuck, having escaped the confines of her plait. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a look, but continued into the room and settled themselves in their usual seats. As soon as everyone was settled, Professor Erwin conjured a podium and leaned against it.

"We spent all of last month working on spells you should have been taught your first, second, and fifth years. I believe you are sufficiently caught up, meaning that we can begin the syllabus. The most important thing you will learn this year is teamwork. No war has ever been won by one man. It takes an army. You will all learn to work as one. I don't care what relationships you have outside of this classroom, in here you are a team." She kept her eyes steadily between Harry and Malfoy. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I won't ever be fighting alongside these… people," he said languidly. "So why should I have to work with them now?"

"Have you ever heard of the expression, because I said so?" Erwin snapped. "I don't give a damn who you think your allies will be when you get out into the big bad world. You're probably wrong. And it is not my job to cater to your predictions. You will have to fight with these students, Mr. Malfoy, if you intend to pass this class."

"What do you mean?" asked Susan, seated next to Hermione.

"To pass my class, you will have to go through a series of seven tasks. Each one will be created by a teacher Flitwick, Binns, Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, Sinistra, and Dumbledore. Mine is actually part of your exam, so it's not technically a task. Think of it as a game, much like in your first lesson. I presented you with a situation you had to get yourself out of. This next time, it will be harder. You will not know whose task is next, so that you cannot try and prepare for a task in their areas of expertise. For the first two, I will break you into four groups. Then you'll be in two groups for three tasks, and then you'll work as one. The times of the tasks are also going to be a surprise. It could happen at any moment.

"The point is to find a way for your team to work together and get through without losing any members. I will not assign leaders, if you want one specified person in charge, you must do that within your group."

Hermione's hand shot in the air, and Harry was surprised it didn't take off Susan's ear. "How are we to prepare, Professor?"

"Think of it as a lesson in war. You cannot study for it because you will not be able to study for the battles you will fall into once you leave this school. The world is a dangerous place." Hermione nodded, sharing a glance with Ron and Harry.

They all knew what the others were thinking. They couldn't stop from remembering all the things they had faced together.

"Now, I'm going to pair you up. Granger and MacDougal, Weasley and Brocklehurst, Potter and Bulstrode." She kept going around the room, Hermione giving Harry a sympathetic look, whereas Ron simply laughed at him. Susan was paired with Pansy Parkinson, to which Harry gave her an understanding look.

They spent the rest of the day playing trust games, or in Susan's case, falling down again and again as Pansy purposefully dropped her. Harry was surprised to find that despite the dirty looks Millicent was receiving from her housemates, she continued to do as Professor Erwin asked, catching Harry as he fell backwards, leading him safely through the blind maze, and so on.

As soon as they left her room, many heading for N.E.W.T. Potions, they all began discussing the tasks Erwin had been talking about. "Does she have any idea how dangerous it is to throw students into situations like that?" Hermione ranted.

"Hermione, we'll be fine," Harry soothed. "We've got to learn war conditions. She's right. We won't always know what is ahead of us. I think it's a brilliant idea."

"But a student almost died the first lesson, or did the giant pit escape your memory?" she snapped.

"Miss Granger," Professor Erwin called from her doorway. Hermione turned, still furious. "I have contacted Professor Snape and informed him you will be late for Potions. I would like a word, and perhaps a cup of mint tea." Hermione cast an apologetic look at Harry before returning to Professor Erwin's classroom.

"Wonder what she wants," Ron said, as they continued on. Harry shrugged, bidding him good-bye as Ron took a different corridor to get to the Muggle Studies classroom. Harry slipped behind a tapestry and jumped down the pole situated there, landing deftly behind a second tapestry on the main floor. He slipped out and made his way quickly to Snape's room, always sure to arrive ahead of schedule. The door was already open and he went in, sitting in the middle, so as not to be in the line of fire but at the same time not to look as though he was trying to slack off.

Professor Snape was exactly on time, the door slamming shut just as Padma Patil was about to enter. She swore loudly, her footsteps heard retreating. Snape never let any late-comer into his classroom. Harry decided to be diligent in his notes so that she could catch up on the lesson.

As usual, a potion appeared on the board, unnamed. Harry shorthanded the recipe in Elvish, finishing the notes first. After lighting his cauldron, he gathered the ingredients specified, making a trip to the N.E.W.T. storeroom. When he returned, tebo skin in hand, Snape was holding his parchment.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" Harry asked, slamming his ingredients down rather violently. A few of the students near him exchanged worried looks and Anthony Goldstein, who had taken the seat next to him, edged away slightly.

"What is this nonsense?" snapped Snape. "You were to copy down the potion."

"I did. It's shorthand."

"Unlike some, Potter, I am not dim. This is not a potion; it is gibberish," he snarled. Without further ado, he stuck it in the flame under Harry's cauldron.

"It wasn't gibberish!" Harry yelled. "It was-"

"Was what?" Snape asked, eyebrow arched, sneer in place. Harry glowered, furious.

"Nothing," he gritted. Grabbing up his quill, Harry began anew, once again scribbling in Elvish, knowing that Snape was hovered over his shoulder. Sure enough, the parchment was ripped from under his quill, and Snape set it aflame again. Taking out a fresh sheet, Harry began a third time. And once more, Snape destroyed it. This continued until Snape was worked into a right temper.

"OUT!" Snape bellowed. "Thirty points from Gryffindor, a week's detention, and I suggest you make your way to Dumbledore's office. NOW!" Harry was too happy to comply, grabbing his bag and cauldron, leaving the flame burning. He caught Susan's eye as he walked out, and she gave him a short nod.

Harry made his way quickly to Professor Dumbledore's office, snapping the password at the gargoyle irritably. Voices sounded from behind the door and Harry paused as he was about to knock.

"Am I doing this correctly?" a woman's voice asked. She sounded strict, but a gentle edge to her clear, sharp voice.

"Perfectly, Merilyn," Dumbledore assured her. "Come in, Mr. Potter." Harry gave a rueful smile as he opened the door and walked in. He finally thought to shrink his cauldron and replaced it in his potions kit. Dumbledore sat on the corner of his desk, his imposing penseive next to him. A short, sturdy woman sat in a chair before the pensive. Her gray hair was whipped up into a loose bun, a pair of spectacles perched on her nose, and a worn black handbag clutched on her lap. Laugh lines and wrinkle marks decorated her face and Harry was given the impression of an old cat that was still thought it was a kitten.

"Sorry," Harry said, remembering that he had been listening in.

"Quite alright, my boy. Curiosity is a great element to posses. Harry, I would like you to meet Ms. Goldsten. She runs an orphanage near Liverpool," Dumbledore introduced. "This is the student I was telling you about, Merilyn."

"Hello," Harry said politely, shaking her hand. She gave him a small smile.

"Ms. Goldsten was a young volunteer at the orphanage where Tom Riddle grew up," Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly. "She has kindly agreed to sacrifice her memories of the young man."

"He was a good-looking fellow," Ms. Goldsten recalled. "This does make your head spin, Albus."

"Why don't I call Minerva down and have her escort you to the hospital wing," the headmaster suggested. He quickly made the fire call, as Ms. Goldsten watched with huge eyes.

"This magic is just amazing!" she cried. Professor McGonagall arrived seconds later, gently guiding the old woman from the room.

"How may I be of service, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, seating himself behind his desk and motioning Harry into a seat.

"Snape sent me."

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore reprimanded. Harry simply scowled at him. "And why is that?"

"Because I was taking notes," Harry growled.

"Why don't we wait for class to let out? In the meantime, we'll take a look at our young Mr. Riddle." Dumbledore placed his index finger into the silvery liquid, and Harry followed suit.

They were in a small room, crammed with rows of bunk beds covered in rust, looking as though they would collapse at any second. A few children sat on the bottom bunks, playing with ragged decks of cards or making pretend. A young woman about Harry's age was swiftly folding sheets on the far side of the room. Her spectacles were perched primly on her nose, and Harry knew this was Ms. Goldsten, despite her auburn hair.

One boy sat in a corner, about maybe three years old. He held a smooth stone in his hand, staring avidly at it. Harry watched as a few older boys, maybe seven and eight, came over, malicious grins on their faces.

"Oi, Riddle," said one boy. "Nice stone."

"Thanks," Riddle mumbled.

"Give it here, then," another demanded. Riddle clutched it to his chest. It wasn't long before the boys were ganging up on him, wrestling it away, despite his protests and tears.

"Don't be such a baby," snarled the first boy, tossing the rock from hand to hand. Riddle glared at him through his tears. And suddenly, the boy went hurdling back across the room, slamming painfully into the wall, headfirst. Riddle stared eyes wide, before he walked over and picked up his treasure. He dug into the unconscious boy's pocket and pulled out a few other stones and coins.

"Mine," he whispered. Harry swore that the brown eyes had almost seemed red for a moment. "Anyone else?" he asked loudly.

"It is much worse than I feared," Dumbledore said softly. Harry had almost forgotten that he was there. "Riddle's transformation began long before Hogwarts." The scene changed, and once again, they watched Riddle be antagonized by the older patrons of the home. As Riddle grew older, Harry was sure he saw Riddle's eyes turn red on more than one occasion.

Suddenly, the memories stopped and Harry found himself seated once again in Dumbledore's office. He relaxed back in his chair, thinking about everything they had seen. Harry was beginning to see just the reason for Voldemort's actions. Appalled, he recalled the young girl ten-year-old Riddle had picked on, doing to her exactly what had been done to him. And for a moment, Harry was reminded of Snape, who antagonized students as James Potter had teased him.

As though on cue, Snape slammed into the room. "A little calmer next time, hmm, Severus?" Dumbledore advised gently.

"I refuse to let him off, no matter what twisted little tale the spiteful brat has told you this time," Snape snarled.

"I didn't say anything!" Harry cried indignantly. Snape's look showed he clearly did not believe Harry.

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, offering Snape a lemon drop, to which he received only a dark scowl.

"In regular fashion, Potter was being insubordinate," Snape gritted out.

"I was taking the notes!"

"Yes, because your little scribbles were clearly the potion I had assigned!"

"It was El-" Harry cut of, breathing hard, and slouching pointedly in his seat.

"It was what? A little language you made up?" taunted Snape. "Did you use it to talk to your go-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Harry warned.

"You see, Albus! This boy is threatening me!"

"Avir mentik, tentiru makitai," Harry muttered. "It was shorthand."

"That was not shorthand!" Snape snapped. Harry pulled out a roll of parchment, labeled in large letters CHARMS, dated a few days earlier. He opened it to show the same collection of symbols.

"See, I take all my notes like this. I was simply doing the work." Harry slammed the paper down on Dumbledore's desk, glaring at the potions master.

"Ah, there now! No harm no foul. Young Harry just knows shorthand. No detentions needed, and of course you'll give him full credit for the day," Professor Dumbledore said, his smile not masking the direct orders. Snape glared at Harry one last time before sweeping from the room in his usual epic fashion. "Why don't we head off? I believe you have a Herbology lesson to get to." Dumbledore made his way out of the office, humming an unfamiliar tune, and Harry followed, shaking his head in amusement.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

The next day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived early for charms to find Susan already sitting there, staring blankly at the wall opposite her. Hermione, without hesitation, sat next to her and gently linked their arms, Susan immediately resting her head on the offered shoulder. "You good?" Hermione asked, squeezing her hand. Susan let out a long breath and nodded.

Harry watched, an ache in his stomach. He wished he knew what to say, but he had lived his whole life without parents. It is easier to long for what you've never had than to miss what has always been there, Harry knew. Ron shifted, looking as awkward as Harry felt. The girls were talking quietly and whatever Hermione was saying seemed to be increasing Susan's spirits.

"Oh, I have the notes from potions for you," Susan said suddenly, reaching into her bag. She handed over an extra copy of the previous day's lesson. "I know Hermione's words are too big for you to understand."

"Thanks," Harry said dryly, giving the laughing duo next to them a dark look. "But I can guarantee I know a bunch of words Hermione doesn't." The aforementioned girl raised her eyebrow. "A whole other language you could say."

"That's not fair," Hermione complained, giving him a hurt look. Harry just grinned his famous grin and saw Hermione's face relax into amusement. "Very funny. Come on Ron, I don't fancy staying here anymore." She pulled the redhead into the room against his many complaints.

"You sure you're okay?" Harry asked after a moment.

"I'm far from okay," Susan said softly, "But I'm getting there. I don't think I'll ever be the same. Se la vi." She gave a shrug. "I'm glad you're concerned, though." A small blush crept up her neck that Harry thought was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.

"I'm glad you're glad," Harry replied dopily. And without realizing what he was doing, Harry gave slipped his hand into hers, words spilling from his mouth. "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Yeah, sure," she said happily, giving his hand a squeeze. Harry was extremely light-headed as they walked into the classroom, their hands still entwined. Hermione immediately popped into the seat next to Ron, where Harry usually sat, leaving her seat next to Susan vacant. Needless to say, Harry didn't remember much of the lesson the next day.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Saturday, the eighteenth of October, was the best day for a Hogsmeade visit yet, in Harry's opinion. If he was being at all rational, he'd have realized that previous trips had been on warmer days, sunnier days, weekends without homework and revision. However, Harry being decidedly irrational, as one who's infatuated usually is. To top it off, Harry wasn't even worried about Voldemort attacking. The most urgent worry for him was what precisely to wear today on his non-date with Miss Susan Bones.

"For the love of Merlin, Harry, just pick one," Ron groaned. The whole dorm had been awoken early that morning by Harry, who was extremely anxious about whether or not he was going on a date, and Dean, who beyond giddy for his first official date with Ginny. Ron had nearly hexed poor Dean, but settled for continuously pouring cold water on his while he showered.

At the moment, Neville was taking his own shower, Seamus was looking for his favorite pair of jeans, Dean was carefully making sure his outfit was clean, and Harry was sifting through the entire contents of his trunk, looking for the perfect shirt. Ron was responsible for helping him, being Harry's best friend and all that.

"Ron, it has to be perfect," Harry snapped. "If it's a date, then I want it just right and if it's not I want her to want it to be." Ron groaned a long-suffering groan. There was a rap on the door, to which Seamus granted entry.

"Put on some pants before you let someone in!" Hermione shrieked at Seamus, who immediately went red, stuttering about thinking it was one of the boys. "Well don't just stand there." Hermione threw him a pair of jeans that were sticking out from under Neville's bed, which happened to be the pair Seamus was looking for. He pulled them on, and began searching for a shirt, his blush slowly creeping away.

"'Lo, Herm," Ron said lazily. Hermione sat herself on Harry's bed as well, looking with curiosity at the strewn clothes. "Harry wants to impress Susan." Hermione nodded her understanding.

"Well then," she said briskly. "Take a seat, Mr. Potter." Harry obeyed, dressed in a pair of slacks and his pajama shirt. "The first thing is pants. And no, those won't do. You need to look casual, yet hot. No comment needed, Ronald." Ron shut his mouth immediately. Hermione dug through Harry's trunk, making little noises all the while. Finally she pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans, worn in a few places and with a small rip in the back pocket.

"Those are ripped," Harry said. They'd been given to him by Bill Weasley a few years ago for Christmas.

"In the pocket," Hermione agreed. "Go put them on."

"Aunt Pet-" Harry stopped short, realizing what he'd been about to say. He grabbed the jeans and went into the bathroom to change, informing Neville that Hermione was there at the same time.

When he returned, Hermione was holding a deep red shirt, that buttoned up the front. "It's Collin's. I just went down and got it," she explained. "Put it on." Harry did as he was told and stood still as Hermione circled him. "Something is missing. Ginny!"

They all looked at her sharply, her piercing scream having taken them by surprise. There was a pounding on the steps.

"No need to wake the dead," Ginny snapped, entering the room. Her hair was swept into two need braids, a knit cap on her head.

"Give me your necklace," Hermione ordered. Ginny didn't hesitate in removing the leather band from her neck, and Harry saw it had a small ebony stone on it. "Go on." Hermione was holding it out to him. Harry tied it around his neck and the girls both nodded in approval.

"Lose it, Potter, and I'll make Fred and George look saintly," Ginny threatened. Harry nodded his understanding. "And wear the bracelet I gave you. Don't worry, it's manly." Harry did as told, feeling very much like a marionette, but deciding to listen to the girls just this once.

As soon as the rest were ready, the group headed down to breakfast, where Harry invited Susan to sit with them, following a sharp jab from Hermione. After a quick meal, Ron and Hermione headed off with Neville and Seamus, leaving Harry and Susan alone. Ginny wished him a quick good luck as she passed by with Dean.

"Where do you want to go?" asked Susan, as they headed out into the bright morning light. The days were just starting to turn cold and the air held the scent of fall. Susan had on a more decorative that practical scarf and a jean jacket. Harry had been ordered to borrow Dean's bomber jacket, which had been given to him by his grandfather who'd fought in World War II, and was glad for it now.

"Dunno."

"I have an idea," Susan said, pulling him on more quickly. Harry became quite nervous when they turned down the alley Madame Puddifoot's was on. But she passed the tea shop without a second glance, stopping in front of a candle store. "I want to show you something."

Bells jingled as they entered and Harry was surprised when no smells assaulted his nose. Aunt Petunia had often brought him into scent shops when he was younger on occasions Mrs. Figg was unavailable. He'd grown to hate the smell of the mixed scents. _The Valley_ was nothing like those stores, and Harry supposed it was charmed to keep the candles at bay. Rows of colors appeared in perfect order on both sides of the center aisle. Susan pulled him back further where things became mixed, different sizes, colors, shapes.

"What're we doing?" Harry asked, not knowing why he hushed his voice.

"My mum loved to shop here. We'd come all the time when I was little. Even Aunt Mia would come, and she never really went anywhere," Susan said, her voice also quiet. Harry wasn't sure what he should say and he didn't want to muddle it up. "This one." Susan pulled a candle off of the shelf, a slightly off-white with yellow rose petals in it. "Rose Rain. Mum's favorite. She had perfume too; she always smelled like it." Susan breathed in deeply, tears pricking the side of her eyes.

Harry gently closed his hand on the candle as well, his fingers brushing hers. Gently he brought it to his nose and sniffed. The smell was pleasant, unlike anything Aunt Petunia ever had. Somehow it seemed familiar. Harry tugged Susan closer and held her in his embrace for a moment.

"I think I get it," Harry whispered. Susan smiled at him, seeming to feel much better. She replaced the candle on the shelf and moved on, grabbing a few down to smell as they went. When they reached the register, Susan had chosen a few candles to buy and did so, as Harry waited.

They proceeded to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer and then to Zonko's. After a stop at Honeydukes, they traveled up to the Shrieking Shack to talk.

"I don't know why I said all those things before, about my mum," Susan said, staring up at the shack. Harry glanced at her, watching her ruby locks. "It's onlyour first date."

"It's a date then?" Harry asked, excited. She smiled and nodded. "Good. I was hoping…. So, um, does this mean we're, er, dating?"

"I suppose we are," Susan said. "And you know what people who date call each other?"

"Yeah," Harry murmured. "Now how to break the news to Mrs. Weasley that I've got a girlfriend."

"And I promise I don't blubber when I'm kissed," Susan joked, an old spark restored to her eyes. Harry smiled. He felt confident with Susan, a new sensation when it came to dating.

"Is that so?" He didn't know where the words were coming from, they were just coming.

"Mhmm." Harry was leaning closer to her, and suddenly, a strange sense swept over his as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He whirled around, eyes searching. "Harry?"

"Susan, go into the shrieking shack and there's going to be a trapdoor. Go through it until you reach the end. It comes out underneath the whomping willow. Immobilize it and get into the school. Tell the teachers Hogsmeade is under attack, and tell the to get here now. I want you to stay there," Harry ordered, his voice commanding and ominous.

"Is the DA going to fight?"

"No," Harry said, detached. Had he been paying attention, he'd have noticed something pass over her.

"Be safe," she called, dashing off to do as he'd asked.

Harry took off in a sprint, reaching the nearest students, who happened to be seventh years. "Hogsmeade is under attack. If you know the disillusionment charm, start working your magic. Otherwise get back to Hogwarts. Now."

"You're off your rocker, Potty," drawled Malfoy from nearby. "I don't see any danger." As he spoke, a loud explosion sounded from Madame Puddifoot's and shrieks filled the air.

"Bite me," Harry snapped. He took off again, until he reached Ron and Hermione. "Go, please."

"No such luck," Hermione said absently. "Ron and I will round up the DA and set the youngest ones in charge of getting everyone out. Here comes Ginny and Dean. You do whatever you have to."

"There are elves here," Harry informed them quickly. "Be very careful."

Without explaining, Harry shrugged off Dean's jacket, handing it to the friend before he conjured a set of long daggers, whirling around as more explosions filled the air; Harry met the blade swinging down on him. He pushed the attacker back, swinging out his weapons. He stood before an elf dressed in dark red. The eyes were pure black, such was the hair. And Harry jumped to avoid a leg drop kick, slicing off the elf's head as he landed. A cry came from around him.

Harry didn't pay attention, rushing to the Three Broomsticks, from where many elves were spilling forth, all dressed in the same deep red. Breath deeply, he pulled out a nearly invisible silver chain with a silver stone on the end. Reciting the incantation, the stone transformed into the silver frame that he'd traveled through so few weeks ago. And from it came a fierce looking elf that Harry knew as Kilarati.

"I summon my army," Harry said. Kilarati gave a sweeping bow before she vanished. Harry turned away, searching for death eaters. He wasn't disappointed as a swarm of black was emerging from the Hog's Head.

Harry sensed elves coming from his portal, dressed in silver, green, and purple. They raged, meeting the masses of red. From down the street he hear apparition pops as both the ministry and the Order arrived. Taking a deep breath, Harry cast a back shield on himself and pulled out his sword, giving a quick glance to the wizards and Dumbledore's Army before he transfigured his clothes and blended among the elves the battled over the grave of the Three Broomsticks.


End file.
